A Little Lower Than the Angels
by mkim57
Summary: This story visits our DD in Season 8 just prior to 'Ice Queen'and begins by addressing events portrayed in 'Each Of Us Angels'and taking them into Season Nine. Sorry for the sp. error previously...Aurggg,it the pirate in me! LOL!Update August 22nd!
1. Chapter 1

A Little Lower Than the Angels

Chapter 1

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode through Season 8, starting with the period of time just before 'Ice Queen,' however, we will begin by addressing the events in the episode 'Each of Us Angels.'

A/N: This story has been bugging me since our EOTW discussion a few weeks ago. That said, I want to make clear that I don't intend to change one detail of the story 'Each of Us Angels.' I just wanted to visit some of the people in the story, and try to link them to the Harm and Mac we had in the spring of 2003, and then follow our DD through the rest of

the season.

"_For what is man that Thou art mindful of him, _

_Or the son of man that You take care of him? _

_You have made him a little lower than the angels;_

_You have crowned him with glory and honor,_

_And set him over the works of Your hands._

_You have put all things in subjection under his feet."_

0915

Friday

April 15, 2003

JAG Headquarters

Admiral Chegwidden sat at his desk; his two most senior attorneys were seated before him.

"The SecNav has requested that we investigate a possible recipient of the Navy Cross, Nurse Ensign Beverly Trombatore. It will be a posthumous award."

He leaned forward holding out a file for each of them.

They both looked up with a questioning expression, curious as to why this required the attention of both of them.

The Admiral knew these two, and decided he would just let them wonder what his motives were. They had been fighting off and on, for the better part of the last 6 months, making the whole of JAG Ops staff, miserable at times.

Given the spirit of competition between them, they would pursue this matter beyond a shadow of a doubt, he was sure. The SecNav could never throw it back into his lap, if the Admiral could argue that he had given the job to Rabb and Mackenzie, two senior attorneys who held, what he knew, were vastly different opinions on this subject. All bases would be covered, politically and otherwise.

Besides, he just wanted to get them both, the hell out of JAG Ops for awhile; the tension level in recent weeks had become ridiculous. It seemed they were managing one crisis after another lately.

First there was Singer's 'firing' from the Seahawk, and her mystery pregnancy, then the accident that landed him in the frigid, and snow covered George Washington National Forest, and last, but not least, the SecNav's audit and Teddy Lindsey's near trashing of his entire senior staff. He had nearly resigned over the matter. What the hell else could happen to this office, he decided didn't even want to think about it.

The Admiral knew he needed a break but the best he could do now, was get these two out from under his feet for a couple of days.

"You will both conduct interviews with former shipmates of Nurse Ensign Trombatore, who served aboard the USS Goodwill, while the hospital ship was assigned to a battle group just off the coast of Iwo Jima. She was killed in February 1945, as a result of her efforts to protect the men in her ward by securing the oxygen tanks, while the hospital ship was under severe enemy fire."

"You will also interview the former Lieutenant Ron Graham, USMC. He is the driving force behind the investigation for this award. He was aboard the Goodwill when the Nurse Ensign was killed."

Mac spoke up, "Sir…if I may, only four female members of the Navy or Marines have ever received the Navy Cross."

"I am aware Colonel, and personally, I think there are a number of things in play here, though you will not repeat it this beyond the walls of this office. Congressman Steven Tate, from Ms. Trombatore's district in Oregon, is coming up for re election this coming year. The World War Two Memorial is also due to open next spring. Apparently, Mr. Graham, who was also an eyewitness to Nurse Ensign Trombatore's heroism, has made it his personal mission to make Congressman Tate's life miserable, until she is at least considered, for the medal."

Mac opened her file, at once curious about the case and Mr. Graham. She wanted to meet this man, who was pushing so hard for a woman, long dead and not a relative, to be recognized for her bravery and valor.

Harm was eyeing his file critically and wondered, 'a Navy Cross for turning off oxygen?' Considering what he had heard so far, he just couldn't picture it. He believed he understood the sacrifices made by nurses during that time, but he didn't think it rose to the level that would merit a Navy Cross. He was sure it was as the admiral had said; it had to be a political move on the part of her congressman, a ploy to appeal to the votes of his female constituents.

Harm would be the first to admit, that the medal was due to many nurses who served during WWII. Some were captured by the enemy, survived terrible conditions and still treated the men and women with whom they were imprisoned as POW's. A quick perusal of the file indicated that this woman was aboard ship for most of her tour of duty. She was probably one of dozens of nurses, going the extra mile for their patients that day.

"Do you have a problem with this assignment, Commander?" The Admiral had observed Harm's knitted brow and congratulated himself for being right about Rabb and Mackenzie again. He could practically see Rabb's wheels turning and Mackenzie already reacting to them.

Harm's head snapped up quickly. "No…sir"

Mac was eyeing Harm suspiciously, she knew that look, he had already made up his mind. He didn't believe the nurse ensign deserved the medal. Mac couldn't quite put her finger on it but for some reason, he had been getting under her skin more than usual lately. When he wasn't irritating her, he seemed uncharacteristically distant. She couldn't explain how she knew it, but he was keeping something from her; she could feel it, he had been since late last fall, when she temporarily replaced Singer aboard the Seahawk.

Before that assignment, she thought that they were getting closer, but after she returned, they always seemed to be on opposite sides of an argument, of any kind. Their 'debates' weren't anything new, but the tone of them had become a bit sharper, and they weren't seasoned with the closeness they once shared.

"Very well, I expect a full report from each of you, no later than Wednesday at 1600. One that will satisfy the SecNav and Congressman Tate…Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir" They both spoke at once.

Harm and Mac were dismissed with their assignments, each officer, retreating without comment, to their respective offices.

1045

Friday

April 15 2003

JAG Headquarters

Harm sat at his desk, trying to concentrate on the information in his case file. He didn't understand why the admiral had assigned both of them, but Harm decided he would be unwise to question him at this point. When he considered that that he was responsible for the Admiral's unfortunate ejection from an F 14 over Northern Virginia, not to mention, into a snowstorm in the middle of February, Harm decided he wasn't going to push his luck.

He had been keeping his distance from Mac lately. He thought it might be wise, at least until he was able to resolve the matter with Singer and Sergei, Mac knew him too well. The situation was always niggling in the back of his mind, what if Singer really was pregnant with Sergei's baby, when Harm had talked to him about it, he didn't seem to think it was a possibility, but what if it was? What if she decided not to carry it to term? What if she gave it up, once those records were sealed, Harm would never find the child.

Mac had come to Harm's open office door, a few moments before, to find him still scowling at the file in front of him. Thinking his expression had to do with their assignment, she chided him.

"What is it, Harm? Does the thought of another woman getting the Navy Cross have you that upset."

Harm startled and looked up at her, incredulous. "No…of course not. Why would you say that?"

Mac shook her head and folded her arms across her chest. "Never mind, do you want to begin at Bethesda?"

"Bethesda?"

"Yes Harm, Bethesda. You've been going over the file, since the Admiral gave it to you this morning, haven't you seen that Mr. Graham's granddaughter, Lieutenant Carol Graham is stationed at Bethesda?" She walked further into his office and continued.

"I spoke with her this morning, Mr. Graham and his wife are here visiting their granddaughter this week, it turns out that Mrs. Graham, the former Nurse Ensign Joanie James, was serving aboard the Goodwill and knew Nurse Ensign Trombatore, as well."

Harm had been so absorbed in his thoughts about Singer and his brother that he hadn't gotten that far yet.

"Fine. How about after lunch? I have a few phone calls to make." He had been trying to reach Sergei for over two weeks. He needed to talk to him. Singer had been on extended maternity leave for months, God knew where, she was due in less than a month. Harm knew he was practically obsessing about this, but he just couldn't let it go, if he had anything to do with it, another Rabb wasn't going to grow up without his father.

"Fine." He was still being secretive about something; he was looking at her, but still not quite meeting her eyes. He was acting as of he wanted her to leave his office. Feeling shut out, again, Mac turned and walked back to her office.

1345

National Naval Medical Center

Bethesda, Maryland

Harm had been virtually silent all the way over to the hospital, he'd had no luck reaching Sergei, and his thoughts were still turned inward.

Mac had stolen glances at him from time to time, wondering what was behind the wall that he seemed to have strengthened around him lately. She couldn't help feeling that their relationship was changing, that maybe he didn't trust her as much as he used to. The thought of that possibility made her so sad that she sighed audibly.

Harm heard her, "What did you say?"

Mac answered, not looking in his direction, "I didn't say anything."

She thought that this was certainly no time to talk about 'them.' She was beginning to feel hopeless about the whole situation, maybe they never would be together; Harm seemed content to stay in this limbo, content to keep his distance, indefinitely.

As they approached the main gate of the National Naval Medical Center complex, Mac pushed those thoughts away and got her head back into their assignment.

As they walked into the hospital to meet with the Grahams, Mac couldn't help but notice his pensive expression.

"I can't believe you're acting like this about our assignment" She couldn't remember when she'd seen him so preoccupied.

"I just don't like the political part of this, and as I recall, you don't like things like this either." He didn't feel like sparring with her now, he just wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible; he hated it when they were assigned to attend to the SecNav's 'errands.'

"No, I don't usually, but I am intrigued." As they approached the elevators, she turned toward him and asked. "You've already made up your mind about this, haven't you?"

"No, I haven't, but Mac, you have to admit, a Navy Cross for securing oxygen tanks? There are other women, who are probably more deserving, who met the enemy face to face, in POW camps, and in battlefield hospitals. I think this is about Congressman Tate running for election in 04'." Harm stepped into the elevator and Mac followed him.

Harm observed the confused look on her face.

"What?"

"About the time I think I have you figured out, you say something…almost….nice." She couldn't keep from smiling at him.

Harm chuckled and stepped a bit closer to her, looking her in the eye. "Sorry to disappoint you, Mackenzie." He was suddenly flirting with her and his eyes were lit with mischief.

Mac decided that it was pointless to try to figure him out and decided to just go with it; she definitely preferred a little lighthearted flirting to fighting with him, any day.

The elevator doors opened and Mac turned walked out ahead of him. "You're just full of surprises aren't you?" She threw him a saucy smile over her shoulder as he followed her out of the elevator.

They had set up a meeting with the Grahams in the commissary, at the medical center complex, since neither of the Grahams drove and Bethesda was centrally located, near their granddaughter's residence.

A young woman in uniform approached them. "Commander Rabb, Colonel Mackenzie?"

"Lieutenant Carol Graham." She came to attention.

Mac instructed the junior officer to stand at ease.

"Yes, ma'am." She turned toward Harm, acknowledging him. "Sir"

"My grandparents are seated on the other side of the commissary." She nodded and turned to direct them.

"Lead on, Lieutenant." The young woman looked vaguely familiar to him, but Harm could not place her.

They followed her to a table, where an elderly couple were seated, the man rose, as he saw the officers' approach. He was tall and bespectacled and his wife, who remained seated was petite, their hair silvery white. They both had to be in at least their mid eighties, but they wore it well. They both beamed with pride as their grand daughter approached.

The younger Lieutenant Graham introduced them to her grandparents but then had to leave them. "If you'll excuse me, sir, ma'am, I have to return to my duties."

Mac dismissed her. "Carry on, Lieutenant."

The lieutenant arranged to meet her grandparents after her shift and she quickly left them to their interview.

After they were all seated, Harm immediately opened his briefcase and got down to business. "Mr. Graham, what we're doing here today is simply getting your account of the events of February 28 1945." He looked at Mrs. Graham, "We'll need your account as well, ma'am"

The older man frowned and then spoke sharply, "Her name was Beverly Trombatore, she was nurse ensign aboard the hospital ship Goodwill." This naval officer was making him angry; he seemed to Mr. Graham, indifferent, as if Beverly weren't a real person, not to mention a hero.

"I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to sound disrespectful, we have Nurse Ensign Trombatore's information, we just need to have an account of the events of that day." Harm looked at Mr. Graham directly.

His wife touched his arm, and he calmed down. 'No, I apologize, it's been pretty difficult to get anyone to take us seriously, and I know that this wouldn't even be taken into consideration if we weren't nearing an election year. I know Congressman Tate wishes he had never answered my letter."

The former Nurse Ensign Joanie James chuckled and stroked her husbands arm. "We haven't allowed the Congressman much peace, since then."

Harm smiled at them both. He supposed there really wasn't anything wrong with using a congressman's ambition to honor a friend.

"The information we have states that Nurse Ensign Trombatore turned off the oxygen tanks in the hospital ward, while the ship was taking enemy fire."

The older couple looked at each other, smiling without humor at the understatement, and then Mr. Graham spoke, "You could say we were taking enemy fire, the ship itself was on fire, she had suffered a kamikaze attack, the ships compartments had filled with smoke."

Mrs. Graham added, "If the fire had reached the tanks, the ward itself would have become an inferno, SOP was to evacuate the most ambulatory patients first, but I know that Beverly believed, if she could get to the tanks and turn them off, the patients who were bedfast could be saved as well."

Mr. Graham finished. "If the tanks had blown, the chain reaction might have sunk the ship itself and more lives would have been lost."

Mrs. Graham continued. "Beverly went to the ward, as everyone else was evacuating in the other direction."

"I tried to follow, to help in someway, but I was too late. The ship had taken another hit, it wrecked the hospital ward. I found Beverly under one of the supply cabinets, unconscious." The older man's voice became low. "I got her out, out on the deck, she came to, just for a moment, she never said anything, she just…then…she died."

Mac saw that Mr. Graham was getting upset, so she turned her attention to his wife. "Mrs. Graham, did you witness the Nurse Ensign returning to the ward?"

"Yes I did, I was helping evacuate, the ambulatory patients"

Mr. Graham interrupted, "Yeah, in her hospital gown, she was a patient herself and had been wounded the day before, while on the deck of the ship. The ships around us were taking heavy fire and were returning it. I suppose you could say we got caught in the crossfire, and Joanie was wounded." Mr. Graham placed his hand over his wife's, where it still rested on his arm.

"It was pretty brutal, for everyone. It seemed that during that last year of the war, the enemy was more vicious and more willing to die. They were willing to do whatever it took, to kill as many Americans as they could before the war was over, hospital ships were no exception." The older man could still see the faces of his men, in his minds eye, the ones who never came home.

Both officers became caught up in Beverly Trombatore's story, and the couple who were telling it. Mrs. Graham painted a very vivid picture of life aboard the Goodwill and of the men and women who served with them and Mr. Graham was able to tell the story from a patient's point of view.

"Our records indicate that only the former Seaman Thomas and Nurse Ensign Jane Connors, now Rowe, are the only living witnesses to the events of that day."

Mr. Graham continued, "Yes, I hear from Stan at least twice a year. He's even made it to a few reunions, some of us formed a bond on the Goodwill, and we met every other year for quite some time. We're all a little older now; it's a bit tougher to do."

"Seaman Thomas was a messman, wasn't he?" Mac asked him.

"Yes he was, but Stan was where ever he was needed, and on a hospital ship, that could be anywhere, especially during that time. He was a high school teacher who signed up to fight, but ended up cleaning bedpans." Mrs. Graham smiled, as she remembered him.

"I gave him a hard time about hiding his light under a bushel, but he did alright after the war. He went back to teaching high school, for twenty years and then was a principal for another twenty." Mr. Graham added, remembering the close, but long distance friendship they maintained over the years, sharing pictures and milestones of their families and their lives, more by letter, than face to face.

"Have you spoken with Jane?" Mrs. Graham asked about her former shipmate. "She met her husband aboard the Goodwill, you know. He witnessed what happened that day."

"Yes ma'am, I spoke with her this morning.' Mac had gotten started tight away. "Mrs. Rowe is going to overnight copies of letters that were written by her husband; she says he wrote several letters to his mother the week of February 28th that spoke, in glowing detail of the Nurse Ensign's actions that day. The letters, in addition to Mrs. Rowe's account of the events of that day will corroborate what you and your husband have told us today."

Harm added, "We will speak with Mr. Thomas tomorrow, before we finish our investigation."

They wound up their interview and as they stood to leave, Joanie Graham made a suggestion. "We were just getting ready to go out to the site of the new Memorial; would you two like to come along?"

They agreed, without discussion or hesitation. Neither officer would be able to say why they had agreed to go. Something about the Grahams drew them in, and it was as though they both decided, at least for while, that they would allow it. As they followed the Grahams into the elevators, Harm whispered to Mac. "We can always say it was an extended interview, with in depth background research." Harm raised his eye brows, giving her a 'what do you think?' look.

She smiled at him indulgently and nodded, "Sounds good to me. I don't think the Admiral wants us back in the office this afternoon anyway."

They both chuckled, and without any effort at all, seemed to slip into that familiar sense of ease, that their friendship and something a bit more, had always brought them.

TBC

A/N: The verse at the beginning of the story, is from the New King James version of the Bible. It is Hebrews chapter 2, verses 6 through 8.

A/N: The details of Seaman Thomas life were taken from Araninda's post of an early script draft, during the EOTW discussion of 'Each of Us Angels.'


	2. Chapter 2

A Little Lower Than the Angels

Chapter 2

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters; I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episodes through out Season 8 are fair game. For now, we are joining our DD just prior to 'Ice Queen.'

Many, many thanks to all of you who constructively reviewed this story. I've said it before but it bears repeating, this is a great community.

1501

Friday

April 15, 2003

Site of the National WWII Memorial

Washington DC

Harm and Mr. Graham were walking along the outer perimeter of the memorial on the east end of the Reflecting Pool, in full view of the Lincoln Memorial. It was a cloudless sunny day, with just enough of a breeze to require an overcoat. The Cherry Blossom Festival was over, but there still enough of the beautiful trees blooming to make the setting beautiful, even if the area were they stood was still under construction.

"This has been a long time coming." Mr. Graham straightened, his hand clasped behind him.

"Yes sir, it has."

The older man gave Harm an inquisitive look, trying to guess his age and asked, "Did your grandfather serve during the war?" 'The war' for Mr. Graham would only and always be World War II.

"Yes, sir, my grandfather, he was killed in 1942, he flew F4F's off of the Hornet."

"I'm sorry to hear that. So many died, I don't think you can imagine just how many, I hope you never have to."

Harm nodded and continued to listen to the older man.

"I hope I live to see its completion." Mr. Graham seemed to be talking to himself, as he looked out over the memorial grounds.

"Are you ill sir?"

"No… but I'm 86 years old. You never know." Mr. Graham glanced in his direction.

Harm grinned, "I suppose not."

Mr. Graham turned toward him and seemed to study him and then he spoke, "You didn't really think she should get the Navy Cross, did you Commander?"

He had to be honest, "No sir."

"And now?"

"I can't say sir, I haven't completed my interviews, and I'm sure you know, I'm really not at liberty to say."

"Yes, I know, but I'd like your opinion of what you've learned from us, so far."

Harm considered the older man's request. "I'll only say this, if I had only gone by the information we had before the Colonel and I spoke with you, my opinion would have been much different than it is now."

Mr. Graham seemed satisfied with his answer as he looked out over the site. He began to walk, and Harm walked along with him. The older man stood nearly as tall his he, with steps that were equally sure. Neither man spoke for a long moment and as they passed one of the corner stones, they paused to read the newly finished inscription.

'_Women who stepped up were measured as citizens of the Nation, not as women. This was a people's war, and everyone was in it.'_

They both stood silently for a moment and then Mr. Graham asked, "You're wondering why I'm so insistent about this, aren't you?"

Harm was slightly surprised at his perception, and he good-naturedly chided him "I thought I was the one who was supposed to ask the questions."

Mr. Graham smiled and turning away, began to walk around the memorial's perimeter toward the place where his wife and Mac were seated. "I'm not convinced that you believe us. I think you're looking for a motive; you wouldn't be much of an investigator if you didn't."

"I knew Beverly Trombatore for 9 days, what I know of her heroism has nothing to do with me, though the first day, she literally saved my life. I was wounded at Iwo Jima, they thought I had a pretty bad head injury and I was taken aboard the Goodwill, to be treated. I wasn't responding, my pulse was so weak, they couldn't feel it. She hesitated, when Commander Rayburn, the ships commanding officer and doctor, insisted that I was dead. Her hesitation gave me just enough time to get the strength to keep them from pulling the cover over my face."

Mr. Graham continued, "Hers was the voice I could hear drawing me back, and made me want to know who was speaking to me. From the time I opened my eyes, I knew she would not only take care of me, but that she was my friend too.

You see nurses really weren't supposed to talk to the men about their wounded comrades, not even to their commanding officers. They weren't even allowed to tell the patients anything specific about their own conditions, but Beverly trusted me and I trusted her…it was like, we already knew each other." The older man seemed to be speaking to himself again, as Harm listened and walked along in silence.

_At the other side of the memorial….._

Mac sat with Mrs. Graham, on a bench at the other side of the site.

"Beverly was a wonderful girl, she was kind and patient, but she was strong too. She was my best friend" Mrs. Graham laughed, "The voice of reason, when our head nurse was driving me crazy, if it hadn't been for Beverly, I probably would have been taken to mast for insubordination. She made me want to be a better person."

"You met your husband aboard the Goodwill?"

"Yes, I met Ron then, but he wasn't my husband or even my boyfriend," The older woman paused for a moment. "Back then, and for some time after he left the Goodwill, he was Beverly's"

"And his pursuit of this doesn't bother you?"

"No, of course not, I loved Beverly. It may sound funny to say, but I don't think I would have fallen in love with Ron if I hadn't known her."

Mac looked at the woman curiously.

"How can I explain this? I liked Ron when I met him, he was handsome and there was no doubt he was brave, but the part of him that stole my heart is the way he loved and honored Beverly, even after she died. He had this tough exterior, he was a no - nonsense Marine, but he led with his heart. I knew that the first time I saw him talking with Corporal Tanner, one of his men who had been injured, the same day he was. He was so kind to him, the way men are kind, you know? He always spoke to him as if everything would be alright, wouldn't allow him to give up hope; he's say, 'Hey, buddy you'll be alright, just you wait and see…" Mrs. Graham's voice broke when she remembered Jimmy Tanner and the sweetness that shone through his badly burned and swollen face; he haunted her dreams for years after the war.

Mac placed her hand on Mrs. Grahams arm, to comfort her, but she was thinking of a certain Sailor that she knew that led with his heart, and though he would always deny it, she knew it was no less true. She remembered his loyalty to Diane, the way he obviously felt about her, long after she had died, without being aware of it at the time he had drawn her in. He was like Mr. Graham in that, he was handsome, brave and he, more often than not, led with his heart. It was one of the things about him that both exasperated her and endeared him to her, at the same time.

Mrs. Graham became quiet for a few moments and then whispered, 'each of us angels.'

Mac had been unable to hear her, 'ma'am?"

"It was a part of a poem that Beverly used to quote all the time."

_We are each of angels with one wing_

_And we can only fly _

_By embracing each other."_

At that moment, Mr. Graham was repeating the quote to Harm, remembering the last moments he had with Beverly. "That was what she said to me."

"I had taken the loss of one of my men, especially hard; his name was Corporal Jimmy Tanner. He was from my home town, the younger brother of one of my best friends, growing up. Beverly and I were becoming close, but after Jimmy died, I decided that I couldn't allow myself to trust anyone. I told her that if I let her in and started caring about her, that I'd let her down, just like I did Jimmy and his family. I foolishly thought I was not only protecting myself, but Beverly too."

"If I had only known how little time we had, someone with her….heart... should have lived to be 100. After I left the Goodwill, I didn't know why I lived and they died. I only know I owed it to Beverly to live a long and happy life and to remember her well."

Mr. Graham looked at Harm now, "I don't want you to misunderstand me, I'm not pining for some lost love, though the young man I was back then, standing on the deck of the Goodwill, did love her, though he never said the words. It's just that after visiting her grave when we visited in February, it struck me that she had been forgotten; all that was left of her short life was a lonely grave in Arlington."

His words began to strike a chord for Harm as he waited for him to continue.

"It occurred to me again that I and so many others are alive because of her as and not only that, she made me remember, never to take a moment of my life for granted. If she had been a man, she would have received a silver star for her actions that day. She went to that ward without hesitation, she loved her life, but she risked it, not because she was trying to be a hero, but because it was her nature to reach out, no matter what it cost her."

He kept his gaze directly on Harm, "Do you understand Commander?"

Harm was still contemplating what the older man was saying, what he had been doing for months had finally come home to him. He was struggling with a secret, a situation he thought he could handle himself, and in keeping it from his best friend; he was not only hurting himself, but Mac too. Another brave and strong woman, who had risked her life for him, more than once. After a long moment, he answered the older man. "Yes sir, I think I do."

They continued walking around the perimeter of the unfinished memorial until they met Mac and Mrs. Graham. Finished with their interview, they took the Grahams back to their granddaughter. They kept their conversation light on the drive back to Bethesda, though the Grahams had both given them a lot to think about.

1635

Capital Beltway

Washington DC

Harm and Mac were quiet on their trip back to JAG and their own vehicles. As they pulled into the parking lot at Headquarters, they both spoke at once.

"Harm" "Mac"

They laughed nervously and Harm began, "Mac, I…need to talk to you about something, something that I…" He shook his head. "Why is this so hard? We've been friends for over 7 years." He was looking out the front windshield, not making eye contact at all. Suddenly he felt guilty for shutting her out of this for so long.

Mac gave him her half smile, "Maybe we've just gotten out of the habit, of confiding in each other." They had both been guilty of that. She looked at him now, thinking that he looked so uncomfortable, almost guilty, and then the question occurred to her, was he seeing someone. Was that why he was being so distant?

"Is this when you tell me that you're seeing someone? You're not going out with another video princess are you?"

Harm snapped his head around and looked at her sharply, "No!"

"Okay…" Mac chuckled and lifted both hands in surrender.

"Sorry…no, it's just… complicated."

Harm sat in silence for a few moments, he needed to talk with her but it couldn't be here.

"Why don't you let me make you dinner tonight? It's not late; we've got plenty of time. We can go over what we have for the case so far and our questions for tomorrow."

Mac smiled and accepted.

"Hey, what were you going to say earlier, anyway?" Harm asked as he opened the car door.

Mac had gotten out as well and as she looked over the top of the car, she answered, "I wanted you to tell me what's been going on…why you've been so distant, lately."

Harm grinned mischievously, "What do you know Mackenzie, it finally looks like were on the same page." He turned to walk toward his Lexus, "1830, okay?"

"I'll be there."

1915

Harm's apartment

North of Union Station

Harm and Mac sat at his dining room table, finishing what was an excellent meal, fusilli with shrimp, tomatoes and arugula.

"That was great." Mac never thought she'd say that about anything that had arugula as an ingredient.

"Thank you." He pushed his chair back and picked up their plates.

"So…Harm, are we going to talk about what's going on with you?"

Harm stood in the kitchen, rinsing the plates, fidgeting, Mac thought.

She stood and walked over to him, standing close enough so that if Harm turned toward her, he would be looking at her, directly into her eyes. "Harm…talk to me."

He turned the spigot on the sink of with more force than was required and said, "I know what you're going to say…"

She was quiet for a moment and then asked,

"Okay….am I right about what you think I'm going to say?" Mac arched a brow, trying to tease him a bit and lighten the mood, he was troubled, she couldn't deny that.

Harm remained silent and she waited a beat.

"Harm, I want to help, I don't understand why you don't trust me."

"It's not that, I just don't want to involve you in something…" He walked away from her and into the living room. "I'm not even one hundred percent sure about it, it's just something, I don't know, I can't let it go."

Mac knew without a doubt now, in one way or another, it had to involve his father. It seemed that all roads led there for him. "Harm, is this about your father?"

Harm turned to look at her, his eyes reflecting the love and pain that Mac knew was always under the surface when he spoke of his father.

"It is, in a way, it's about Sergei." He turned away from her again, facing the living room.

"I thought you and he were getting along better, didn't he ask you to be his best man in his wedding?"

Harm nodded, and then he did something that surprised and totally disconcerted her. He held out his hand and asked. "Come on, come sit with me, it's a long story."

Mac tried to hide her surprise and took the few steps across the room and gave him her hand. He sat down and pulled her down to sit next to him. He didn't pull her intimately close, but he held onto her hand. He looked down at her hand, instead of at her as he spoke, it made talking easier, he thought.

"Do you remember last fall, when we went to the Seahawk about Singer?"

"Yes I do, when I ended up having to stay TAD." Mac swallowed hard when he began to unconsciously rub small circles on the back of her hand, with his thumb.

"Do you remember when you asked about who I thought the father of her baby was?"

"Yes." Oh God, what the hell was he getting at? "And you didn't think you should share that information with me?"

"I found out that Sergei saw her just before she left for the Seahawk." He looked at her for moment, trying to gage her reaction.

"And you think Sergei is the father? That's why you've been distant?" Mac couldn't help but feel relief, even the slightest thought of Harm and ….Singer, how ever unlikely… It boggled the mind.

"Mac, I knew as soon as I told you, you'd just think it was another of my obsessions. It may be, I don't know, but if there is the slightest possibility I can't…I won't allow another Rabb to grow up not knowing who his father is. I thought if I kept track of where she was, if I didn't put too much pressure on her that she would eventually tell me…something. I guess I thought bringing you into it, might do that." He looked at her, the torment he had buried inside, apparent now.

"Harm…." She closed her fingers around his hand. "Have you spoken to Sergei?"

There was patience in her voice and in her eyes, and something more, there was always something more with Mac. God, he had missed this.

"Yes. He doesn't think the baby is his, and seems to think that Singer wouldn't have a problem with a number of men in her life at the same time. He has every intention of getting on with his life."

Mac smiled without humor, "Well…I have to say, I could agree with that. Have you talked to Singer about this at all?"

"Yeah, you could say we had a conversation." Harm's features darkened. The thought of that conversation still made him angry. "I met her at Benzigers when she came back to extend her leave, where she promptly ordered a beer and said she thought she might take up smoking."

Mac looked away for a moment, shaking her head. Singer was goading him, but why, what could she possibly gain by doing that? It was always hard to know what motivated her, other than blind ambition; this was cruel, even for Singer.

"Has she spoken with Sergei?"

"Yeah, but only because I practically forced her to, so much for not putting too much pressure on her." He regretted that whole incident; it hadn't really given him any peace of mind about it, and it had changed nothing.

Mac thought about what he had said for a long moment, she agreed with Sergei, it was more than likely that the child wasn't his, or Singer would have found a way to work it to her advantage. But, she knew Harm and this was something than ran deep for him, Sergei was his connection to his father, they were of the same blood. Family meant everything to him, something else than endear him to her.

"Harm, if they agree that the child is not his, as much as I know this means to you, you know you can't pursue it."

Harm was quiet for a moment, still holding on to her hand.

Mac put her hand on his arm and leaned in a bit, teasing him "So did I say what you thought I'd say?"

Harm narrowed his eyes, leaned toward her, nudging her a bit. "No, I guess not." He tried to smile, but this was still very painful for him.

"Come on Harm, you have to trust your brother, trust that he made the right decision."

"I know you're right, but I just…I haven't let it go. I don't think I'll be able to until I know for a fact that child isn't a Rabb. She doesn't want it, why won't she just let me have it? I asked her and she wouldn't even consider it."

Mac leaned back from him, she hadn't expected that. Harm raising a baby, alone. "So, you're going to have your baby without me?" She was only half kidding.

"Of course not, we have another year, right?" He grinned sheepishly, embarrassed about what he'd said about adopting Singers baby. "Sounded pretty desperate when I said it out loud, huh?"

"Harm I think your heart is in the right place, but this really is out of your hands now."

Her words brought to mind what Mrs. Graham had said earlier that day, about the tough guy that always led with his heart.

"I know" Harm spoke softly, though in his heart, he rebelled against the thought.

Mac decided it was her turn to surprise him, so she leaned forward and kissed his cheek, "Thanks for telling me about this, I know this isn't easy for you."

Harm startled a bit and then a slow smile spread across his face. "You're welcome" Mac self consciously patted his arm and then began to stand up. He stood with her, her hand still in his.

Mac looked back over at the dining room table, suddenly uncomfortable under his steady gaze. "So…let's finish clearing your table so we can get back to Nurse

EnsignTrombatore."

Mac slipped her hand out of his and swiftly walked to the dining table, starting to clear it.

Harm followed her, grinning from ear to ear.

TBC

A/N: I will try to post every other day or every third at the most, I was going to try to finish this before I posted, but its just not me, I couldn't wait.

A/N: sj asked how ling this one would be, I'm thinking maybe 6 or 7 chapters, but I'm not 100 percent sure, I only have my outline. Thanks again for your interest, everyone.

A/N: The inscription Harm and Mr. Graham read is, in fact, a part of the memorial, I am not sure it was standing as of April, 2003, but for my purposes, in this story, it was. By the way, the quote was Army Colonel Oveta Culp Hobby, speaking about the role of women, during WWII.

A/N The author of the 'each of us angels' quote is by Luciano deCrescenzo.


	3. Chapter 3

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 3

Disclaimers: As previously stated.

Spoilers: Anything up to and including 'Ice Queen' in Season 8 are fair game. The dates are different, but since this is a fictional fiction (smile) I just went with it.

1030

Tuesday

April 18, 2003

Thomas Residence

Baltimore, Maryland

Harm and Mac sat in the study of Mr. Thomas' home. His shelves were lined with books, a mahogany library table in front of the large window held framed photographs of his family. Harm thought he recognized the faces of the couple they had interviewed, just the day before, in the one of the myriad of pictures, placed haphazardly on across the top of the table.

They had taken the short flight up from Reagan International this morning. After this interview, they were only waiting for Mrs. Rowe's information. They would probably be finished before the Admirals stated deadline.

Mr. Thomas walked over to the bookcase and pulled what looked to be a thick scrapbook from one of the shelves. He carried it over to Mac and stood behind her chair. "Here, I have some pictures we've taken over the years, when we were able to get together. Ron sort of drafted me to be the historian of our little group, since I was the only college man."

Mac opened the cover which revealed thick black paper pages with pictures held in place with white cornered stickers. Harm was seated next to her on a separate chair and he leaned in more closely so that he could see as well. There was a picture of the USS Goodwill itself, and of the ships company. The nursing staff were pictured separately.

"Most of the first few pages were taken before any of us met Ron. Joanie provided them, here…that's her." He pointed to a picture of four nurses, "Joanie James, Beverly Trombatore, Jane Connors and Marianne Cavendish….the head nurse."

Mac smiled remembering Mrs. Graham said during their interview. "Mrs. Graham said your head nurse could be…difficult."

Mr. Thomas chuckled, "She was as you say…difficult, but in all fairness, she bore the brunt of our commanding officers ire most of the time."

"Commander Rayburn? I believe Mr. Graham called him…Bluebeard?" He had told Harm about the Commanders 'nickname' during their interview.

Mr. Thomas laughed in earnest, "Yes, it was a common nickname for him, but no one ever called him that to his face."

Mac turned another page and it held only one picture, it was of Beverly Trombatore, with a verse that was hand written on white parchment paper and taped beneath it. It read:

_The golden moments in the stream of life rush past us and we see nothing but sand: _

_The angels come to visit us and we only know them when they are gone._

_George Eliot_

Mr. Thomas had become immediately serious, "That's Nurse Beverly, Joanie said this picture was taken just a month before she was killed." The young woman stood smiling for the camera, her hands clasped in front of her.

Mac looked at Harm who was studying the verse and the picture very intently. "Can you give us an account of the events of that day, Mr. Thomas?" The moment had become very solemn, so Mac thought it was time to focus on the details of their interview.

"I'll do the best I can; I was stationed aboard the Goodwill for the duration of the war, Nurse Ensign Trombatore, came aboard about a year after that. As for that day, I saw her go back to the ward during the attack on February 28th; I was helping evacuate patients to the upper decks. I saw Ron, Lieutenant Graham carrying her and I helped him, lay her down on the deck."

He shook his head, "She opened her eyes and looked at him and then over at all of us. I thought maybe…she would make it…but she died."

"I didn't speak with her outside of the course of our duties, until after Lieutenant Graham came aboard. I helped pass notes between them; I bent the rules a little bit." Mr. Thomas was quiet for a moment. "You have to understand things were very different then, open friendships between people of different races, didn't happen often, certainly not in that setting. Ron Graham was a rare one, he never spoke down to me, he even saw through my charade almost immediately."

"They told us they used to tease you about hiding your light under a bushel." Mac looked up at him.

Mr. Thomas nodded, "There wasn't much of a choice back then." His expression was pensive, then he seemed to shake the feeling away and smiled "Ron has become a good friend."

"Were you aware of his effort to have Nurse Ensign Trombatore considered for the Navy Cross?"

"No sir, I didn't know until you contacted me, I'm glad to hear it though. She did a brave thing, we all lived with the fear that those tanks would blow if the ship were to catch fire during an attack, if she had been a few minutes slower, they probably would have. We would have been sunk, I'm sure of it."

Mac turned another page and there were several pictures that appeared to be taken some years later. "When were these taken?"

"That was our first 'reunion.' After the war, we didn't see each other for over 10 years, and then out of the blue, Ron Graham calls me. Says, "Hey, how about we get together, swap lies about how successful we are?" Mr. Thomas laughed. "I didn't quite know what to make of it at first, but my wife and I met with them and the Rowe's in Washington DC, even Padre Chesborough came a couple of times."

Harm looked at the pictures of the younger Lieutenant Graham; trying to connect him to the older man he met yesterday. The one whose story had made him look a little harder at his life and appreciate what he had a little more.

Mr. Thomas seemed to slip deep into thought for a moment, then he stepped over to his bookshelf. "The Padre kept a journal, and when he passed away, his family sent it to me. They knew by then about my role as the Goodwill's historian." He slipped it out of the bookshelf and carried it over to them. He flipped through the pages until he came to the entry for February 28th, 1945. He read it aloud:

'_We suffered heavy bombardment and kamikaze attack today, many wounded, 15 killed. Nurse Beverly Trombatore risked her life, securing oxygen in the hospital ward; she saved so many lives, but lost her own.'"_

He closed the book and became quiet.

Harm and Mac looked at each other, and then Harm spoke to the older man. "Sir, if we may, we'd like to take this journal with us, it will provide more documentation of the gravity of Nurse Ensign Trombatore's actions, that day. We will see that it's returned to you."

"You may, I'm happy to do anything I can to help. I would like it back though, I intend to make it part of the archives, when the memorial is opened next year."

Harm and Mac finished their interview and in a short time were on their way back to DC.

1535

Tuesday

April 18, 2003

JAG Headquarters

Harm sat at his computer, beginning a rough draft of his report to Admiral Chegwidden. He would be recommending the Nurse Ensign for the Navy Cross. He had been skeptical in the beginning, but talking with the Grahams yesterday and Mr. Thomas this morning, left no doubt that what Nurse Ensign Trombatore had done that day was nothing short of heroic. Mac would be so pleased. He smiled to himself. It had been great to work with her again, to feel as though they were a team and not adversaries.

Just then Mac came to his open door and knocked on the frame. "Hey." She held a Fed Ex envelope in her hand. "Mrs. Rowe's letters arrived this afternoon; do you want to have a look?"

"Sure, I was just starting a rough draft. Have you started your report yet?"

. "Harm…" She smiled at him indulgently, "of course I have. Are you going to tell me what you've decided?"

Harm made a show of thinking about it, "I don't know, I think you should buy me dinner and then I'll tell you." He flashed her one of his most charming smiles.

She decided she would play and asked him, "So is this bribery…or a date?"

"I don't know, you tell me." He waggled his eyebrows at her, appearing totally unfazed by her question.

She nodded and then decided to see if he could take what he was dishing out. "Buy me dinner and I'll tell you." She turned on her heel and quickly walked out of his office, with her previously offered letters.

Harm's mouth dropped open, "Hey!" He stood and by the time he got to his doorway, he could see Mac fanning herself with her Fed Ex envelope as she walked through her office door. He made his way over to her. "I thought you were going to let me have a look at those letters."

Mac shrugged her shoulders, "don't know what to tell you." She smiled at him sweetly.

Harm put up both hands, "Okay, Japanese sound okay?"

"Great." She lifted the envelope and handed it to Harm.

As he took it he said. "At your place, 1800." He quickly left her office before she had a chance to contradict him.

She jumped up from her desk and tried to catch him before he slammed his office door, "Okay…but you're bringing it." She had said it just a bit too loudly and drew the attention of most of the people in the bullpen, including Admiral Chegwidden.

The Admiral approached her just as she realized how loud her voice was. "Problem Colonel?'

"No…sir."

"Are you and the Commander making progress with your investigation?" He folded his arms in front of his chest.

'Yes sir, we're both just finishing up."

"I see, I suggest that you finish up…a bit more quietly."

Mac felt the blush creep up her neck. "Yes sir."

Harm stood leaning against his desk, listening to the Admiral and Mac's conversation. He could keep the smug grin from his face.

He may not have won that round, but he could at least call it a draw.

1800

Tuesday

Mac's Apartment

Georgetown.

Mac opened her door to find Harm with his arms extended forward, holding their dinner in front of him. "I come in peace."

'Get in here" She laughed.

Harm walked into her living room, and placed their dinner on her dining room table. Mac had already set the table; she carried glasses with ice and a pitcher of tea on a tray, from her kitchen. "Is iced tea okay?"

"Great, this is nice Mac." Candles were lit on the table and the mantle.

As they had settled into their meal, Mac asked, "So, are you going to tell me?"

"You already know what I've decided."

Mac was quiet for a moment.

"You know, I think the admiral thought we'd have opposing opinions on the subject."

Harm nodded, "Probably, I included what my misgivings were in the beginning and I addressed, point by point, what changed my mind."

"What did change your mind?"

"A lot of things, but I have to say that Mr. Thomas convinced me completely. He really had the most objective opinion. He wasn't as close to Nurse Ensign Trombatore, as the Grahams were. He confirmed what they said, without the emotion. Chaplain Chesborough's journal was another concrete report that no one could dispute or count as pure sentiment."

"It's really strange isn't it? The Grahams I mean, they both loved her." She also thought it was strange that Harm, who led with his emotions, was discounting sentiment, but she decided she would keep that to herself.

"Not really, Ron Graham was only an acquaintance of Joanie James at that point. Beverly Trombatore and Joanie James were best friends."

"They seemed to be a really solid couple; Mrs. Graham said they'd been married 57 years. That's commitment."

Harm studied her for a moment; commitment was a deep subject, one he didn't think they were ready for. "Do you want to see what I've got so far?"

"Sure."

He took the folded rough draft from the inside pocket of his jacket and handed it to her.

Mac opened it and began to read, Harm watched her face, secretly pleased at the agreement he saw in her expression. Their conversation last night had gone a long way toward making him feel closer to her. He didn't think either of them were ready for a commitment at this moment, but they had to begin. Where did you begin to move beyond closeness and friendship and eventually to that place, he hope that they both wanted to be.

After Mac finished she handed it back to him, "It's perfect Harm, I wouldn't change a thing."

"Thanks, now let me see what you've got…..your rough draft I mean." Suddenly embarrassed at his choice of words.

"I knew what you meant Harm and you can have a look, it's not a rough draft though, and I'm finished." She chuckled, taking in the blush creeping up his neck.

"I should have known."

She stood and went to her desk, bringing back a file folder. She handed it to Harm and finished her dinner as he read.

When he finished, "This is scary Marine, were on the same page again."

"Don't get used to it." She teased. "Are you finished with your dinner?"

She stood and picked up her plate.

"Yeah, "She took his plate and as she left the room, he spoke, "You know, you never answered my question."

"What was that?" She called from the kitchen.

Harm waited till she returned to the room. "Whether this was bribery…or a date."

"That was my question."

"No, as I recall, I asked you what you thought it was."

Mac sat back down and folded her hands in front of her on the table. She was enjoying this, the teasing and the fun that had been missing from their conversation for so long. "Well Sailor, I think for this 'dinner' to be considered a date. I would have to have been asked."

Harm grinned at her mischievously, "I asked you to buy me dinner."

She shook her head, "Smooth, Harmon."

"I think so. So is this a date?"

Mac thought for a moment and then decided to try to clarify things. "I'm having a very nice time, with someone I like very much….whom I tricked into buying me dinner."

Harm put his rough draft report back into his jacket pocket.

Mac finished her statement. "So, it's not quite a date." She meant to reassure him that she was having a good time tonight, but that she wanted more.

Harm countered "But its not quite bribery either…is it?"

Mac looked away from him, suddenly shy. "I suppose not." 'Where are you going Harm?' she wondered.

Harm leaned forward resting his head on his hand. "So Mackenzie, what would make it a real date?'

Mac turned to look at him and was immediately drawn in by the playfulness of his expression and the light in his eyes. "Oh…I don't know, dinner, dancing…lights down low…"

Harm nodded in agreement and then stood to walk over to her sound system, turning the radio to his favorite fm station, causing soft jazz filling the room. He flipped off the lights in the living room and in one fluid movement took Mac by the hand and guided her away from the table.

He pulled her into his loose embrace. "Something like this?"

The candles that were lit on Mac's mantle and on her dining room table cast a soft glow in the room.

Mac answered "Mmm… something like this…but not quite."

Harm stroked her back lightly from the middle of her back down to the base of her spine, as though he were using his touch as well as his words to convince her that this dance was a very good idea. His touch was intimate, but not so much so that it seemed inappropriate…for a first date.

"Well Mac, even if this isn't quite a date…can I have at least one dance?" He looked down at her, raising his eyebrows in question, his smile melting her heart.

"I guess so, if you're nice, I might even let you have two." She lifted her arms and placed them around his neck.

"I could do that too, but you know, if we have more than two, this would definitely have to be considered a date." His voice became lower, making Mac lean her head toward him more closely to listen and in doing so made their dance just a bit more familiar than it would be if they were only 'friends.'

He pulled her more closely to him, resting one hand on her back and the other he rested on her arm, as though he wanted to keep her arms around him. He did not press her tightly too him, somehow, their bodies brushing lightly together seemed even more sweetly sensual. He was being very careful with her; she had never seen this side of him before. He was pulling her in, with what appeared to be no effort at all.

Harm waited for Mac to answer him, but she just relaxed more fully into his arms. This felt so right; he was kicking himself for waiting so long to begin this. Maybe this was the way to begin, with a dance, not the one that they had been doing for 7 years, this one drew them more closely together. This case had given him pause, made him look at his life and his time with the woman he cared about most. He didn't want to waste anymore time waiting.

As the second song began to play, they seemed to automatically move together more closely. Mac rested her head on his chin and he brushed his lips against her hair, taking in the scent of her shampoo. She felt so good in his arms, it would be so easy to stay there, but Harm had already decided something. Mac deserved a real date. A night out, so that he could treat her the way he always thought she should be.

"Mac?" Mac's soft breath on his neck was making it difficult to concentrate.

"Hmmm?"

"Since we're about to finish our second dance. I need to ask you something."

Mac lifted her head and looked at him. "Okay."

"Will you go out with me Friday night? Calisto's, dinner, dancing, lights down low?" As he looked down at her and waited for his answer, it occurred to him that she might say no, so without saying another word, he brushed his cheek affectionately against hers. He hoped to say with his actions that what he was asking wasn't a joke, that her answer meant everything to him.

Mac was pleasantly surprised and so touched that she could feel tears stinging at the backs of her eyes. She hid her emotions well and answered him."So…this isn't a date?"

Harm grinned from ear to ear, "Not quite."

Mac smiled at him, "I think that sounds like a good idea, but I have just one question. Does this mean that tonight was…bribery?"

Harm leaned down more closely until he was just inches from her face and looking down at her lips he said, "Not…quite."

He looked back up into her eyes, asking for permission. Mac's eyes were nearly closed and her lips parted. Permission was granted, so he kissed her full top lip, and then softly closed his lips over her bottom lip.

Mac could not keep from saying his name, "Harm"

He covered her mouth with his and gently coaxed her lips open, deepening the kiss. They stopped dancing and Mac responded, bringing her hands down to his face and then his chest. They both drank deeply, each loving the taste and feel of the other and just as things threatened to get out of control, they mutually broke the kiss.

They held each other close catching their breath, when Harm asked, "So…is that a yes?"

"Ye...yes."

They looked at each other and laughed, knowing they were both equally shaken by what just happened here.

Harm looked down at her again, "I should go." Things could get out of control so easily with her, he was only scratching the surface of what he felt for her, if he let go completely he was afraid he ruin everything.

"I know you should." She stroked his cheek with her palm.

"Friday?"

"Yes, Friday."

"But this is Tuesday; it's so long until Friday." Harm suddenly wished he had said Wednesday.

Mac smiled smugly, "Friday."

His kissed her quickly on the lips and then released her. "Okay, I should go." He took his jacket from the back of the chair and started for the door, knowing that if he didn't get out of here, he'd never leave, and he didn't want things to move too quickly with Mac. This was too important to him.

Mac followed him to the door. Harm turned back toward her after she opened it. As he stepped backward, he leaned toward her and stole another quick kiss and her lips felt so good on his, that he let them linger a little longer. Just as Harm reached for her, she broke the kiss. "Mmm Friday, Harm"

He stepped back giving her a look that hovered between sweet and smoldering. "Okay…bye."

He kept walking backward and Mac watched as she closed the door and whispered "Bye"

As Harm descended the steps he said aloud, "Friday."

When Mac closed the door to her apartment, she covered her lips with the tips of her fingers and said. "Friday."

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 4

Disclaimers I don't own any of the JAG characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG up to 'Ice Queen' in Season 8 is fair game. The episode 'Empty Quiver' will be referenced. I will also be playing with the sequence of events in 'Ice Queen' and 'Meltdown.' However, we will shortly begin a different turn within the framework of what happened during the rest of Season 8. I will leave what those turns are to your imagination, until I get there. (grin)

Rating K+

0845

Wednesday

April 16, 2003

Conference Room

JAG Headquarters

Admiral Chegwidden headed the long conference room table, with his two most senior attorneys seated at each side of him, with the Commander Turner, and Lieutenant's Roberts and Sims, also present at the table. He had already begun the meeting, leaving a request for a progress report from Rabb and Mackenzie about the Trombatore Navy Cross investigation, as the last item on his agenda.

"Will you have your individual reports complete by 1600?"

Harm and Mac answered in unison. "Yes, sir." And they added, "I have the report ready now, sir," which was also, spoken at the same time. They handed their individual files to the Admiral, both of their faces coloring slightly. Being on the same page seemed to have carried over from the last two days.

The Admiral gave Harm an appraising look. "Commander Rabb, you will be traveling to Norfolk, as the request of the NLSO at Sewell's Point. It seems the disbursing officer on the USS Connolly, Lieutenant Sandra Smith, who replaced your client, Lieutenant O'Dell, has been charged with dereliction of duty for her conduct during the attempted misappropriation of funds, by a petty officer under her command."

"Colonel, you will be traveling to Quantico, Quantico Legal Services Office has requested an article 32 investigation of Major Tim Fowler, a pharmacist at the medical clinic on base. He has been accused of providing illegal steroids to student athletes, at a local high school, by one of the students he was supplying them to."

The Admiral noticed that his two senior officer's eyes met, and locked, their silent communication was obvious, at least to him.

"You have your assignments people, you're dismissed." The Admiral had hoped working together on this assignment would give Rabb and Mackenzie a chance to work out their differences. However, if the looks on their faces this morning was any indication, they might have worked out more than he had expected.

After staff call, Harm followed Mac to her office. "I'm still making reservations at Calisto's." He stood in the doorway taping his case file on the wooden frame of the door.

Mac turned toward him, hoping her expression would tell him how much she wanted to be back in time. She dropped her case file into her briefcase and prepared to leave. "I'll try to wrap it up as quickly as I can, but it will depend."

"I know. You don't know what you're walking into at Quantico. But… I'm making the reservations. Think positive Marine." He had stepped closer to her, making sure he caught her gaze. "Not backing out on me, are you?"

"No, of course, not." She looked up at him; and the soft look on his face was distracting to say the least. She looked away from him and then started again for the door. She stepped around him and as she did, she threw over her shoulder. "In fact I'm looking forward to it."

"Good, me too." That was what he'd been waiting to hear.

Harm was standing in Mac's office watching her leave, and when Mac looked curiously back at him, he was suddenly aware of where he was standing. Walking out of Mac's office, pulling the door closed behind him, he self consciously looked around to see if anyone else had noticed.

1645

Thursday

April 17, 2003

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Mac walked into the building still feeling surprised and relieved about the resolution of her case. The Major was exonerated by the testimony of his accuser, Joshua Trumbull.

This morning, the young man came to her temporary office at the legal offices at Quantico, accompanied by his father, Staff Sergeant Michael Trumbull. Apparently, the young man's source was another athlete, whom he had met during a regional track meet the year before.

The State's attorney had been notified and Mac was free of this assignment. Hopefully, nothing would be assigned tomorrow morning that would monopolize her that evening. She smiled to herself thinking, that she had a previous engagement.

She had hoped she would catch Harm before he left for the day, but no such luck. His Lexus was not in its familiar parking place. She crossed the almost empty bullpen, glancing at Harm's empty office. Thinking she should just get her report out of the way so that her schedule would be as free as possible tomorrow, she entered her office turning on her desk lamp and computer. She wondered if Harm was back from Norfolk. They had been playing phone tag since they left for their individual assignments Tuesday morning, and had never been able to reach each other, except through voice mail.

She got started on her report right away and before she knew it, it was almost 1900. Her report complete, she stood and stretched. At least that was out of the way, she thought. She her gathered her briefcase and cover, then closed her office. As she walked back through the empty bullpen, she could have sworn she saw someone walk across the hallway, just outside the glass double doors. She could have sworn it was Harm. It had to be, she might have seen a blur, but a 'blur' with those shoulders, could only be one man.

Mac walked out of the bullpen and down the hallway and just as she neared the end of the hall, she felt someone's firm grip on her arm. She looked around quickly, knowing it was Harm. He put his finger to his lips, as he pulled her into an empty and darkened courtroom.

"Hey." He had pulled her just inside the doors and loosening his grip, still held onto her arm.

"Hello, I didn't think I'd get to see you today. Everyone seems to be gone for the day." She placed a hand on his arm to steady herself, his nearness drawing her to him like a magnet.

"I'm glad I caught you before you left; I just got back in from Norfolk, and took a chance that you might have made it back from Quantico." Even though Harm's voice was a whisper, Mac thought at that moment, about how much she loved the sound of his voice. She always had, he could be whispering as he read the phone book and it would sound as sexy as hell.

"No article 32, it seems our Major wasn't the source of steroids, as was previously thought." She was still looking up at his face, taking in the unguarded affection in his features, it was still hard to grasp that they had finally crossed the threshold between friendship and something more.

"That's good" She was all his tomorrow night.

"It is. If this hadn't been resolved, I'd still be at Quantico."

He stepped more closely to her. "That's very good. I knew I was right to make those reservations."

She smiled up at him, at once taken in, by the look in his eyes. "Yes, you were. How did it go for you?" 'Slow down, Sailor' she thought.

"The Lieutenant got off with a letter of reprimand and forfeiture of one half of her pay for 60 days. It really is a shame, she'll always have that on her record, and the near loss of almost 10 million dollars is no blip on the radar screen. I advised her, as the situation was unfolding, to notify her division officer, immediately. She chose to wait and it cost her."

Harm looked down at her suddenly not wanting to talk about Lieutenant Smith anymore. "So you could say, it went fine for me, not so great for Lieutenant Smith." His focus changed from her eyes to her lips, as he spoke, "I wanted to see you for just a moment; I hope you won't think this is out of line, but I was hoping to get…just one more, of these…" He leaned down kissed her lightly. "To hold me over…until tomorrow night."

'Just one?" She reached up and kissed him again. They were taking a chance, but as far as they knew, they were nearly alone in the building, except for the watch.

Harm pulled her close and kissed her deeply, backing her up slightly closer to, but not against, the wall. Her mouth had become at once familiar and intoxicatingly mysterious to him, and he wanted more. He waited a lot longer to break his kiss; he didn't want it to end.

"I know I'm tempting fate, but I could do this all night Mac." He kissed her again, lightly and then at once taking it further, tightening his hold on her.

"I'll hold you to that, Sailor." She was trying to catch her breath, brushing her fingers through his hair, and reveling in the freedom to do so. She knew she needed to slow down, but the feel of his arms around her, pulling her closer with every kiss and the warmth of his mouth, made her hungry for more. So this was what it was like, to be this physically close to him. She understood what it was to know him, at times she thought, better than anyone else. But this…closeness, was another thing entirely. Here in the darkness of the courtroom, being in his arms felt at once, so right and so forbidden.

Mac felt his hands slide down her back and then suddenly stop at the base of her spine, he broke their kiss. "Mac…I..." He was breathing more heavily, and Mac felt a slight tremor in his touch and he began to lightly stroke her back.

"I know, I'm going, but it has just been…such a long wait…for us." She looked up into his eyes, seeing the desire there and the 'something more' that wouldn't let her give up on them completely, even when she wanted to.

"I know. " He chuckled softly in spite of himself. "It seems the more I get of this, with you," he tightened his hold on her, "the more I want. I probably should have waited until tomorrow night, but…" He nipped her lips softly with his own. "I'm beginning to think you could be addictive, Mackenzie."

She pulled back and looked at him, thinking, if he only knew the power he had over her, the power that was getting stronger every time they were together like this. Could he know how much she had longed for this, to feel this warmth and passion, from the man who had her heart, for longer than she cared to admit? No wonder women went crazy for him; she had to fight the compulsion to tell him all that he meant to her, right now. But she would wait, if the journey 'there' was this much fun, she intended to take her time.

She smiled and stroked his cheek. "I know how you feel, but you're right, I think we might be tempting fate, it's my turn to go, this time."

Mac slipped out of his arms and stepped over to the door. She glanced back at him and the intensity of the look in his eyes, almost took her breath away. If she returned to his arms at this moment, she thought they both might end up with conduct unbecoming charges. "Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." His voice was barely above a whisper.

Mac slipped out of the courtroom to the elevators and then out to her car.

Harm stepped out a few minutes later and walked down the hallway toward the bullpen, he was startled to see the Admiral walking out of his office, through the glass doors.

He called out to him, "Commander."

Harm was thinking fast, trying to think of a reason to be here this late. "Admiral, sir." Harm came to attention.

"Stand easy. Finished with your testimony in Norfolk?" The Admirals brow furrowed as he looked at Harm curiously.

"Yes...sir. I just thought I'd come by before I returned home…to ask if there had been any decision on the Trombatore Navy Cross." Whew, that was it. That was a good reason to be at JAG, he thought.

"No decision yet, but I think it's a done deal. It would be too good politically, for the SecNav and Congressman Tate." He pushed the button for the elevator and it immediately opened.

"She did earn the medal sir."

"I read your report and the Colonel's, I have to agree, and the documentation was excellent." He gave the Commander another scrutinizing side long glance.

"Thank you, sir." Harm was convinced that the Admiral believed his excuse.

Harm had followed the Admiral down the elevators to the parking lot and as the two officers began to part, the Admiral commented. "Rabb, unless lipstick has become standard with the uniform of the day, you should get it off of your face."

The Admiral turned and kept walking toward his vehicle, as Harm searched his pockets for a handkerchief.

After the Admiral had gotten into his SUV, he smiled and shook his head as he watched as Harm got into his vehicle, all the while, wiping the lipstick from his mouth.

He knew the Colonel had worked late, he watched her leave from his office window. He didn't intend to say anything to either officer, this time. His notice of Harm's 'lipstick' had been a warning. He didn't care what they did, at this point, as long as they kept it out of the office.

0900

Friday

April 18, 2003

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

The Admiral had completed the morning's business, with all of JAG's attorneys present, plus Petty Officer Coates. Instead of dismissing them, as usual, he folded his hands before him on the conference table and looked out at his staff. "It appears we have a situation on our hands. NCIS notified this office, early this morning that Armed Forces DNA Registry has identified Lieutenant Loren Singer's body at Potomac Park. She was found dead there, yesterday morning. They are here as a matter of course in their investigation, and require individual interviews with you all."

Mac looked across the table at Harm; his visage was dark, and completely guarded.

"Petty Officer Coates." The Admiral nodded toward the double doors of the conference room. "Tell Special Agents Gibbs and Blackadder, we are ready for them."

"Yes, sir." Petty Officer Coates had never particularly like Lieutenant Singer, but she didn't wish her dead. She was having a hard time grasping it.

As the two agents entered the room, they witnessed this exchange between Harm and Admiral Chegwidden.

'You're letting NCIS take the lead on this, sir?" Harm appeared immediately defensive that NCIS already had a role in this.

"Sir, I'm requesting that we conduct a JAGMAN investigation concurrent with NCIS."

The Admiral frowned at him, wondering was had come over his senior attorney, he was barely able to stay in his seat. "Denied."

"But, sir..."

"Denied." He repeated more forcefully, this time.

Mac looked across the conference room table at him, trying with everything she had to telegraph that he had to calm down. He couldn't see the image he was presenting to the JAG staff and now the two NCIS agents looking at him, with interest. He looked back at her and dropped his gaze.

The senior NCIS agent had already zeroed in on Harm's awkward and apparently out of character behavior. He walked to the Commander, baiting him and unbelievably Commander Rabb left himself wide open to suspicion. Special Agent Gibbs knew his reputation, he was JAG Headquarters best prosecutor and defender, and he was demonstrating behavior that would classify him as anything but professional. After a brief exchange of barbs, the two men squared off and Gibbs knew that this was no NCIS –Navy rivalry. Something was definitely up with JAG's fair haired boy, and he intended to find out what it was.

The Special Agent admonished the staff not to speak with each other about their testimonies, that doing so would bring them up on obstruction of justice charges. Harm looked at Mac and then answered Gibbs. "We're attorneys, Special Agent Gibbs, we know the law."

"Well then Commander Rabb, you won't mind if we start with you."

The Admiral quickly interjected. "The Commander and I have to re work a court schedule. You'll need to begin with someone else." He looked at the rest of the staff, "That will be all."

Harm hesitated looking sharply at Special Agent Gibbs, but the Admiral's voice cut through his roiling thoughts. "My office, Commander Rabb."

15 minutes later…….

Harm left Admiral Chegwidden's office and he followed him out and watched Harm cross the bullpen. He had never seen Commander Rabb behave this way, in all the years he had known him. He barely recognized him in the conference room; he wondered what could motivate him to act this way.

The Admiral saw Mac come to the doorway of her office and call out to him. He heard him answer her, "Mac, I can't talk to you now." He went into his office and closed the door.

The Admiral went back into his office, knowing that this was just the beginning of yet another crisis. Damn, he was getting too old for this…crap. He was going to talk to Meredith, maybe it really was time to retire.

Mac closed the door of her office, intending to wait her turn to be interviewed by NCIS. She leaned against it and shook her head, her eyes welling with tears. Just when she thought nothing would come between them, this had happened. It just wasn't fair, didn't they both deserve to be happy, wasn't it time? Time for them? 'Please Harm,' she spoke to him in her heart, 'don't shut me out.'

Harm sat at his desk, in his closed office. He automatically picked up the phone to dial Sergei's number, and then replaced the handset. What was he thinking? He couldn't call him from here; he couldn't even use his cell phone. NCIS would have those records in no time. He turned his head from side to side; feeling as though he were cornered, and then turned his chair toward the window. Looking out, it occurred to him that he could call him from a pay phone. He remembered a pay phone; he could get to relatively easily, just off of one of the many entrances to the Metro, near Union Station. He'd have to wait until after office hours.

Then as he turned his chair back around, he thought of Mac and their date tonight, he had been living for it since Tuesday night. He couldn't do this now, not with Special Agent Gibbs breathing down his neck. He'd already told her too much, he hoped he hadn't already compromised her and in the process Sergei. Just then, he remembered the wounded look on her face when he told her couldn't talk with her now. Needing to talk to her, to explain, as best he could, without making things worse, he placed his hand on the phone and then removed it. Then he picked it up again, he wasn't going to let anything else come between them, if they couldn't make a go of it, it wasn't going to be because he didn't try.

Harm rang her office and she picked up on the first ring.

"Mac"

"Harm, what just happened in there?" She tried to keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. This was about Sergei and she knew how much it meant to him.

"Mac I can't say anymore than I already have. I just want you to know…I wanted tonight to be…I've been looking forward to it, ever since you agreed to go out with me, but I can't do it, not now, not with this hanging over my head. I don't want to involve you in this."

"Harm"

"Just please trust me on this. When this is settled, if you still want to, I … want to give… us a try, please just give me a chance to make this…right."

Mac was quiet; she closed her eyes and thanked God he had called. If this had to happen, at least he was totally shutting her out.

"Mac?"

"I'm here. I will."

Harm let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank you…I…thanks Mac."

"You're welcome. As soon as this is over Harm."

"As soon as this is over… bye" Harm returned the handset to the receiver. Just those few words to her had begun to loosen the knot he felt forming in his chest. Now, all he had to do was get through the weekend and somehow reach Sergei. If his brother was implicated in this murder, even though the charges were ultimately found to be false, he would never be able to become an American citizen and Harm's only link to his father, would be lost to him, forever. He had to protect him, he couldn't let NCIS get their hands on Sergei, they would only be too ready to believe the worst of him, if Gibbs attitude was any indication.

Harm could not allow it.

1000

Monday

April 21, 2003

Naval Brig

Washington Navy Yard

Washington DC

Harm sat at table, in a small and airless room, waiting for a visit from his trial counsel. He wondered who the Admiral would appoint to defend him. It would be too much to hope that the Admiral would appoint Mac. He respected Sturgis, but wasn't entirely sure he would trust him with his life. Bud was out of the question, he was still transitioning for limited duty.

The sound of the door opening pulled him from his reverie. A JAG officer, a woman he had never seen before, approached, talking rapidly, something about a red eye from California. She sat down in front of him and methodically removed her two folders, pens, paper and pencils from her briefcase, to begin the interview. It had taken him a few moments to mentally register what was happening.

No one was coming from JAG Headquarters.

"Commander Coleman, why are you here? I thought I reserved my right to appoint my own trial counsel"

"I was detailed by COM Naval District Washington, sir."

Harm was still trying to grasp that no one from JAG was coming, he asked the commander a number of questions, all of which she answered satisfactorily. After further discussion, she got the impression Harm was refusing her services as his attorney. She was silent for a moment and then began to replace the things she had taken out of her briefcase; it was obvious to her, that this interview was over. She started to leave, but Harm's common sense finally won over his irritation and he convinced her to stay.

They went over the details of the case, and the mounting circumstantial evidence uncovered by NCIS that was piling up against him. Harm told her his version of the story including the altercation with Singer in her car, a point he didn't reveal to Special Agent Gibbs.

"Why did you not tell NCIS about this during your interrogation, sir?"

"I decided to trust Navy justice instead of Navy cops." He hoped that hadn't been a mistake too, but just now, he was beginning to wonder.

After they had gone over their strategy for their first day in court, Commander Coleman stood and shook his hand, "I'll see you in court tomorrow, sir. You should know I've taken the liberty of advising the staff at JAG to have no contact with you during the trial. I don't want to take a chance on compromising your case. No one from JAG Ops will be present in court, except when their testimony is required."

Harm frowned, that would explain why he hadn't heard anything from anyone at JAG. He had told Mac that he wanted to stay away until this was resolved, but that was before he was arrested and charged with murder. This had been the longest weekend of his life. He had been arrested late Friday, and had no contact with anyone until Commander Coleman walked through the door today.

"I understand." He had hoped he would see her in the courtroom, sitting behind him, silently backing him up, in what was shaping up to be the fight of his life.

"However, I was visited this morning by Colonel Mackenzie, just before I left JAG Headquarters to come here. She insisted that I pass this along to you." She handed him a small envelope from the inner pocket of her briefcase. "She told me I could read it, but I did not. I will take your word and that of the Colonel that it has nothing to do with the case." She closed her brief case and picked it up.

"If the Colonel said it has nothing to do with it, it doesn't." He looked at his attorney directly.

She turned to leave the room. "Yes, sir. I will see you in court, sir."

He watched her leave. "That you will, commander."

He looked down at the note and slipped it into his pocket. After he returned to his cell he sat on his bunk and opened it. It was a plain unlined piece of paper, written in Mac's familiar script. It read:

_H_

_Some guys will do anything to get out of a date._

_I'm still here._

_M_

Harm smiled and put the small piece of paper to his lips. She was still out there, she was still with him. At his lowest points this weekend, he had wondered if she would ever want anything else to do with him. The thought had even occurred to him, that what had begun between them would be over, before they ever had a chance to get it started.

This little note, with its short message had reconnected them, and in this time, when the foundations of his life were crumbling beneath his feet, it was a balm to his soul.

TBC

A/N: I made up the name of the disbursing officer on the Connolly since they never named her in the episode, everyone called her Lieutenant or referred to her as 'the disbursing officer' and the episodes and credits list, didn't name her character specifically either.


	5. Chapter 5

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 5

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG or NCIS characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to person living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode up to and including 'Lawyers, Guns and Money' in Season 8, The story begins near the end of the episode 'Meltdown.' Events in the episode "Need to Know,' will also be touched upon.

A/N: This chapter will also be an answer to Cece's March Challenge, 06'. I believe this chapter could stand alone as an episode reaction to Meltdown and Lawyers, Guns and Money.' The dialogue to be included is in bold italics. The tense is changed in one part, but you will recognize it, I'm sure.

A/N: A reminder that this has not been betaed. I got an independent streak this time, and I think I'm already suffering for it. (LOL) So any mistakes are mine, and I am aware my dates are off, I'll square it away before I archive.

Rating K

0830

Friday

April 25, 2003

Conference Room

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Harm sat with Commander Coleman, waiting for two NCIS agents and the prosecutor Major Mike McBurney, who had requested a meeting before court this morning.

"Sir, I strongly advise you to consider everything you say in this meeting." She spoke with a measured tone that a junior officer must use when speaking to a superior.

"Commander, I'm well aware of what I should and should not say. At this point, I don't think I have anything to lose." Things had been going very badly in court, Bud and Petty Officer Coates testimonies had been damning, to say the least.

"The new evidence links you to the crime scene Commander Rabb, but it still does not prove that you committed murder. It's not too late to reconsider this meeting."

"I'm going to trust my instincts on this one, Commander." He gave her a side long glance, signaling in a very subtle way, that this discussion was over.

At that moment, Special Agents Tony DiNossso and Viv Blackadder opened the conference room door, followed by Major McBurney.

Commander Coleman started the meeting by stating plainly, that she had advised Commander Rabb against this meeting.

"So noted." McBurney acknowledged her.

The NCIS agents began their interview with the new forensic evidence discovered, and a new location, that a man with 'sandy' colored hair, had frequented with Lieutenant Singer.

Harm braced himself and his chest became tight, as he thought they might have discovered another link to Sergei's relationship with Singer that could hurt him later. He was beginning to think that knowing Singer was like being cursed, neither of them should ever have gone near her.

"My brother Sergei," Harm acknowledged wearily.

"No, not this time, we think we have narrowed it down to one person in particular, recognize him?" DiNosso slid a picture across the table, in front of him. It was a picture of Commander Teddy Lindsey.

Harm sat for a moment stunned, the thought hadn't even occurred to him. He remembered the 'conversation' at the end of Lindsey's audit. When he hadn't been successful at breaking up the team at JAG, Harm hadn't given him another thought. He had tried to frame him. Lindsey had nearly ruined his life forever and he took the evidence to accomplish that, right in front of him. Harm could see Lindsey, taking his cover in his mind's eye.

He had taken it and thrown it over the bridge at Potomac Park. Thank God Gibbs had gone with his gut and they had taken the time to test the silt on the cover, the evidence hadn't been there long enough to place Harm at the murder scene.

The charges against Harm were dismissed and charges were brought against Commander Teddy Lindsey, for his role in the death of Lieutenant Loren Singer. After being processed out of the brig at the Washington Navy Yard, Harm was free to return to JAG and resume his life.

1115

Friday

April 25, 2003

Admiral Chegwidden's office

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Harm stood at attention before the Admiral,

"At ease Commander, have a seat."

'Yes Sir"

Admiral Chegwidden looked at him, his expression stern, and his unflinching gaze making Harm slightly uncomfortable. "Commander Rabb….I'm sure it goes without saying that your actions, though well intentioned and honorable, compromised your career, not to mention this office. Do you understand that?"

Harm waited a beat, and then answered. "Yes, sir."

"Good." His tone of voice was firm and spoke to the utter exasperation he felt with Rabb for nearly scuttling his career, and also for not telling him or someone, what the hell had been going on.

Harm was silent as the Admiral continued.

"I want you to go home, rest up and be ready to work on Monday."

"Sir, I can finish the day…"

"Don't be ridiculous, take the time, and that's an order. You've been in that brig for a week, get out of town, and blow the stink of that place off of you."

Harm thought the Admiral had described it pretty accurately; he did hate the smell of that institution. Maybe he and Mac could get out to Leesburg tomorrow and take 'Sarah' up for awhile.

"Yes, sir"

"Alright, you're dismissed."

Harm stood and came to attention and as he started to leave the room the Admiral spoke to him again.

"Commander Rabb,

I want you to think about something, as you rest up over the weekend. I want you to think about what your silence in this very complicated matter nearly cost you. You have been under my command for over 7 years, if you can't trust me as your commanding officer by now, then I don't know you as well as I thought I did."

"Yes, sir"

He opened the door to the Admiral's office and as he closed it, his mind turned to Mac.

He was ready for a date with both of his 'Sarah's.'

As he was walking across the bullpen, he noticed that Mac's office door was closed. He asked Lieutenant Sims about where Mac was and she replied that she had left 45 minutes before. "I was to tell you that she would leave a message on your voice mail."

He retrieved the message as he took the elevator down. He could have sworn he detected the scent of Mac's perfume, in the enclosed space. In her message, she promised to come by his apartment tonight after she secured for the day. As he breathed in her scent, he smiled hoping that maybe they would pick up where they left off last Thursday.

Admiral Chegwidden had followed, a moment after Harm left the office, and as he watched him walk to the elevators, he wondered if Rabb had heard a word he said.

At that same moment….

CIA Headquarters

Langley, Virginia

Mac stood in front of the mirror, inspecting her profile, her very pregnant profile in the mirror. Clayton Webb had come to JAG today, with the knowledge of the State Department and having convinced the SecNav, that Mac was sorely needed for a mission, in Paraguay.

When they were on their way to Langley, Webb had explained why he needed someone he trusted implicitly. Webb drove home the point that the mission was vital, that it would eliminate a threat to a battle group that was just off the coast of South America. It might actually lead to the capture of a suspected Al Qaeda operative and many of his 'associates' in Paraguay. He told Mac he didn't trust himself, that he was taking too many chances.

Mac thought of Harm. She was sure he had probably gotten her message by now. When she had been offered the mission, she hesitated, but then thought that Webb was Harm's friend too, and if he had been offered this mission, Harm would have taken it. He would complain about Webb's lack of planning the whole time, but he would help him, without question. She knew Harm felt partially responsible for Webb having been assigned to Tierra del Fuego anyway, after the Angelshark investigation.

She would see Harm for awhile before they had to leave for South America. They were to leave Reagan International at 1850. She was sure the Admiral would send Harm home and have him resume his duties Monday. She knew that Harm probably needed the time to get his bearings, after this fiasco and she didn't really think this mission would take more than a week. Of course, she knew this was serious, but thought, how bad could it be?

1600

Friday

April 25, 2003

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

Mac stood before Harm's apartment door, she had to wear her 'pregnancy' suit so that she could look 'in character' when she and Webb boarded the plane for Paraguay. She had been briefed on her role as the diamond expert wife of an arms dealer. Drugs and diamonds had become the currency of terrorists operating there.

She knocked and Harm answered immediately. "Hey."

"Hey, yourself." It was good to see him, but she immediately saw how tired he looked.

Harm automatically opened his arms and she stepped into them. He hugged her to him and felt the burgeoning belly of her pregnancy suit pressing against him.

"What's this?" He backed off from her, looking directly at her stomach.

"I have an assignment. I'll be out of the country for awhile. I'm pretending to be a pregnant wife."

"Where, and whose 'wife' will you be?"

"I can only tell you we're going to be in Paraguay."

"This has Webb written all over it." Harm stepped back again and folded his arms across his chest.

"Harm…I hesitated for a second before I accepted, but he needs my help and I really thought you'd have done the same thing, in my place."

"I wouldn't have been anyone's pregnant wife." He smirked at her, teasing, but still disliking the idea of Mac on this mission.

She laughed and he tried to laugh with her, but he still had the feeling deep down that he didn't want her to go. "Mac, I don't want you to do this."

"What?" She wondered, 'Where was this coming from?'

"I don't want you to go." He unfolded his arms and placed his hands on his hips, he leaned in closer as he spoke, dropping his tone of his voice.

Closing the distance between them, she rested her hands at his sides. "Harm, I'm coming back." Then she touched his cheek and he leaned down and kissed hers. "We have a date, remember?"

"When do you have to leave?" He closed his arms around her, pulling her close, in spite of her pregnancy suit.

"I have to be at the airport in a little over an hour, with security and everything. I just wanted to stop by and check on you, you've been through a lot, and I wanted to be sure you were okay."

"I'm not okay; I don't want you to go." He wasn't just going to miss her, something about this didn't feel right.

Harm loosened his hold on her and guided her to his couch. "Come on …we need to talk."

Mac sat next to him, as he rested his arm on the back of the couch, holding her loosely, in the circle of his arms. "You know I cant back out now, you wouldn't, would you?"

Harm didn't answer; he just looked at her and glanced down at her stomach.

Mac grinned at him, and then self consciously placed her hand over it, stroking it as though there really was a baby there. "Yeah, it's a little weird looking isn't it? Now I know what I'll look like when I'm pregnant."

Harm looked back up at her, his expression softening and melting her heart. There was a new intimacy between them; this was just another aspect of it. Then he spoke, "you'll be beautiful, Mac."

"Think so?" She smiled, trying to hide the blush his attention was causing.

He nodded his agreement and then leaned forward and kissed her. He was careful, as though she really were pregnant; it was a very chaste and sweet kiss. "Thank you for the note you sent me. It meant a lot to me. Last weekend was pretty rough."

"I'm sure it was, I wanted to do something but we were ordered to keep away. I'm not sure how Commander Coleman interpreted it, but I couldn't allow you to think you had been deserted by all of us."

He leaned forward and kissed her, it was a light affectionate touch to her lips. "Thank you for standing by me." He spoke in a whisper, with his face just inches from her, his gaze locking onto hers.

"Not a problem…." Oh, she was more deeply in love with him, by the second. The sensible part of her brain admonished her, 'change the subject Mackenzie or you'll never get out of here.' So she began to speak about whatever popped into her head. "But I am a little ticked at you Sailor."

Harm narrowed his eyes and backed away from her, slightly.

"You didn't tell me about your 'independent' investigation of Lieutenant Singer, while we were aboard the Seahawk. I understand Commander Manneti did some 'research' for you."

He nodded, acknowledging her statement, as he averted his eyes. This was still so hard for him.

"You know that I suspected that Sergei might have been the father, I didn't know for sure, but I wanted to eliminate the possibility of his involvement, unfortunately all it did was raise my suspicions further that he 'was' the father. I also thought that the less you knew, the less you would be compromised by the situation."

"Your intentions were honorable….but you were wrong." Her tone was not accusing; it only confirmed what he already understood…now. Mac was the second person to tell him about how his honorable intentions had nearly ruined his career.

"I know, I just …" He couldn't look at her now; it had affected him more deeply than she knew, to be locked in a cell, with his future and reputation seemingly destroyed. There was so much to tell her but there he needed more than an afternoon to explain it. Why was it so hard to tell the woman he loved most what he was feeling?

"Wanted to protect him?" She touched his cheek and tried to catch his gaze, but he turned away from her for a moment.

"Yes."

"Like you want to protect me?" She smiled at him indulgently when he looked back at her.

"I've learned my lesson about Sergei, but you are different, you're my partner…you're…" He didn't finish the sentence aloud, but only to himself he thought, 'mine.' He quickly shifted his conversation and tried to lighten things up by teasing her, "Besides, I don't want the future mother of my children on a mission, without me."

"I'll have Webb with me."

"That's a comforting thought." He looked down again at her body, imagining, for just a moment, what it would be like to know that she was carrying his child.

"What are you thinking? **_When you look at me like that, what do you see?"_** She remembered that look; he had looked at her this way, long ago, as they stood on Admirals porch. Back then, he looked as though he truly saw her, 'Sarah,' maybe for the first time. She would never forget the intensity in his eyes that night; it truly had been the beginning of the end of any thought of a future with Mic. No one, before or since had affected her so profoundly, with a look.

"**_I see a desirable woman,_** even in your pregnancy suit, you are beautiful to me." His gaze was direct, as though he was saying so much more.

For a moment she was mesmerized by his look, all coherent thought was in danger of skittering out of her consciousness. She mentally shook herself and answered him.

"Thank you…you know you really are full of surprises."

He smiled, loosening his embrace and placing his hand on her 'pregnant' belly. Even though Mac could not feel his touch, the gesture sent a tingle down her spine. "It's kind of…I don't know, disconcerting… to see you this way…and…." He was struggling to find the words.

"What?" Mac's voice cracked, and she cleared her throat, hoping Harm didn't notice. If he did he didn't acknowledge it.

He looked back up into her eyes. "The first time, I imagined seeing you this way, I wanted to be….the one..who…."

Mac was so touched she was speechless; he had really been giving their baby deal a lot more thought than she realized. "Harm, this is no baby, and when it is a baby, I'm keeping my promise, it will be ours… together."

"And I don't want you to worry; I can take care of myself." She nudged him, teasing, "Believe it or not, I got through quite a few years in the Marines, before I ever met you."

Harm had only been half joking about Webb and his ability to watch her back, he didn't trust him. He knew most of the time that Clayton Webb had noble and worthy goals, however, he didn't care what he had to do to meet them. That's what worried him.

"I know you can handle yourself Mac. I've witnessed that, but I don't trust Webb. He may have a plan, but you know as well as I do that on his missions, most of the players are in the dark and my bet would be that you will be too."

"I'll be fine. I'll be back here before you know it."

Harm smiled sadly, "I still don't want to lose you Mac."

"You won't lose me Harm. I'll probably be back within the week."

He looked at her, his doubt evident on his face.

Mac tried to humor him, "You think I need a guardian angel Harm?"

"I think I fly a little lower than the angels Mac."

Mac suddenly became serious.

"Oh, I don't know about that." She whispered, looking directly into his eyes, trying to tell him with a look how much his presence in her life meant to her. She reached up and traced a slim finger across his brow and down his cheek.

Harm leaned across to capture her lips in a kiss. A kiss that began as the others had today, but became so much deeper and full of meaning, because as his hand rested on her stomach, he thought of how he wanted to make her his, just this way. He wanted a real family, he wanted her, he wanted her to carry his child, and he wanted to make the life and love with her that would create it.

1705

April 25, 2003

Admiral Chegwidden's office

Falls Church, Virginia.

Admiral Chegwidden stood at his office window, watching as the sun began to set. Secretary of the Navy Sheffield stood near the fireplace studying the current Judge Advocate General. The SecNav knew AJ was angry, he assumed it was about the mission that his Chief of Staff had taken. AJ had made it clear that he hadn't wanted to offer it to her, but Sheffield had applied a great deal of pressure, as was his prerogative, too much was at stake.

"Speak your mind AJ" Better to hear it now, than through the scuttlebutt at the Pentagon.

The Admiral turned back to look at him, then returned his gaze to the sunset, squinting as the yellow was becoming orange red against a deep blue sky. His jaw was clenched, he was sick and tired of being between a rock and a hard place. He always seemed to be between the SecNav and the Company, or the press, or some congressional representative, or whatever and his career always hung in the balance. He never thought his days as a SEAL would seem uncomplicated compared to this.

"Come on AJ, speak freely, off the record. You're hanging on to your control by a thread." He chuckled, **_"I'm seeing a man so afraid to lose control…_**

The Admiral had heard enough, he wasn't ready for 'arm chair analysis' from the SecNav, certainly not after the month he'd had. He turned back to look at him. "I learned a long time ago, as a SEAL that **_if you lost control, in that world, you were dead_**….or people under your command died."

The Admiral turned away again, locking his hands behind his back.

"Right now, I feel less in control of what happens to people under my command, than I ever did in a war zone."

Secretary Sheffield answered him, "I understand your concern AJ, but Colonel Mackenzie has skills that make her role in this mission very critical. Her language skills alone make her invaluable. Add to that, she is an experienced Marine, who has successfully worked with the agent, key in this mission, in the past."

"I am aware that Mac is very competent, but she usually had back up…besides Webb." The Admiral didn't even want to think about the times he had compromised his people.

The SecNav knew the 'back up' he was referring to, "Commander Rabb."

The Admiral nodded, "Yes, or someone from this office."

"Admiral, I can assure you that Agent Webb isn't the only 'back up' she has."

The Admiral turned toward him and looked at him curiously.

"I can't say more, but be assured, everything is under control."

Admiral Chegwidden looked again out of his window.

He was already dreading Monday, he knew that Rabb would be in his office immediately after staff call. Hell, he might even show up 'before' staff call.

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 6

Disclaimers: As previously stated

Spoilers: Any episode up to Season 8. The episodes 'Lawyers, Guns and Money' and 'Pas de Duex' will be the focus of this chapter. The sequence of events may not occur in the same order or have the same result as in the original episodes; you may also see that some events have been left out entirely, ahhh the beauty of fanfic…..

A/N: Any mistakes are mine.

Rating K

2035

Friday

April 25, 2003

American Airlines flight 632

Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean.

Mac sat back in her seat, resting her hand on her 'baby' and closing her eyes. She had been surreptitiously studying the information Webb had given her. What she had learned would have to be enough to convince Raul Garcia, their terror target Sadiq Fahd's middleman that she was indeed, the diamond expert that she claimed to be. As she rested her eyes and for a moment, her mind, her thoughts went back to her farewell with Harm earlier that evening.

She could still see him standing in the doorway of his apartment. His eyes, again, imploring her not to go on this mission. Mac teased him and told him wasn't playing fair. She had walked back to him and kissed him again. Harm told her "I will use any means at my disposal 'colonel' to accomplish my mission."

He had pulled her back into his embrace, pregnancy suit and all, and kissed her in a way that literally made walking away difficult. Mac smiled as she thought of it.

"Happy dreams, darling?" Webb's voice broke into her private reverie.

"As a matter of fact, yes." She looked at him, her smile still in place.

"Care to share?" He placed his hand casually at the middle of her thigh.

"No." and under her breath she calmly told him. "And if you don't move your hand 'dear' I will have to demonstrate one of my many hormonal mood swings and hurt you."

"Just showing a little affection 'honey'" He grinned at her, teasing.

"Don't push your luck." Mac kept her voice was barely audible, but her intent was clear. Mr. and Mrs. Williams finished their trip in what looked like, companionable, silence.

1640

Sunday

April 27, 2003

Road to Ciudad Del Este

Paraguay

Mac walked determinedly down the road with Webb walking fast, to keep up. The last two days had been 'enlightening' to say the least. Webb had just killed their bodyguard Avarro, demonstrating that while it might be true that Webb didn't trust himself, he apparently didn't trust anyone else, either. They had just narrowly escaped being killed by Raul Garcia; they had lived only because Webb had made him an offer of weapons that Garcia could sell undoubtedly to terrorists for drugs. This would complete the circle of diamonds for weapons for uncut cocaine. Mac had also just learned that Webb had included Gunny in his operation.

"If we're Gunny's back up, who is backing us up?" Webb had revealed, after she had seen him during their meeting with Garcia that he had Gunny assigned to him TAD.

"You'll just have to trust me, maybe it will be someone from JAG, Chegwidden won't allow you to be left behind."

Mac stopped and spun around, incredulous. "What?'

"Rabb will probably come, even if he has to come on his own. I seriously doubt there will ever be point in time that either of you are in a bind that the other won't materialize, no matter what the circumstance." Webb smirked sarcastically. "I knew that if this mission was compromised and if we disappear, the Company may not look for me, but Rabb would go to the ends of earth to find you."

She shook her head "He could be killed in the process Webb."

"Nah, not Rabb, he always lands on his feet."

"Damn you Clay, you're an ass, do you know that?" His attitude and arrogance were making her furious. She felt as though he were playing with them both.

"Hate me if you like, call me whatever you want, I don't care. I'm a spook, I have a job to do and if I don't accomplish my mission, people die. I told you a battle group was at risk that was no lie. Do you want the deaths of every one in that battle group on your head? There are also suspicions that this group could have connections in the United States, do you want to be responsible for allowing those Stingers to be used against us… on American soil? Sadiq Fahd has been linked to attacks against Americans as far back as 1983; we've never been this close to getting him and stopping his operation. I'll do what I have to do.

Mac glanced over, still looking hard at Webb.

"Mac, I will use whatever means I have at my disposal to accomplish this mission."

"It would be great if you would just trust me enough to tell me what's going on. I'm tired of getting my information piecemeal, I feel as though I'm working in the dark." Mac waited and Webb only looked at her his smug smile, ever in place. Mac had enough. "I'm going back to Washington, I was warned about this, and I should have listened."

She walked away from him and then stopped and looked back at him. He had planned this perfectly; he knew she wouldn't leave Gunny.

Webb seemed to have read her mind, he smiled sardonically and kept walking toward her, he passed her and tossed over her shoulder, "are you coming?"

She immediately thought of Harm and what he had said, just before she left him. She had to fight hard within herself, not to dwell on how safe she felt in his arms, about how foolish it had been to think Webb could be straight with them…about anything. She shook of the anger and the sense of betrayal she felt, she knew had to keep her head clear; they had to get to Gunny, get him out and then 'she' had to get out of here…somehow.

2340

Sunday

April 27, 2003

Sadiq Fahd's compound

Chaco Boreal, Paraguay

Mac lay on her back on the hard mattress in Sadiq Fahd's makeshift prison, listening as she heard the footsteps of men she knew were coming for her and Webb. It would only be a matter of minutes. Everything, since the Predator strike on Raul Garcia's hacienda, had gone wrong. Gunny had been taken; she and Webb had tried to rescue him. They had nearly succeeded, though the Chief of Station in Ciudad Del Este, Edward Hardy, had refused to send any assistance with them. He had said they didn't have enough 'intel' to justify it. They were, all three, going to make it, until she saw Gunny go down, just before a hand grenade had been thrown beneath their SUV. The blast itself had knocked her unconscious; she had awakened just moments ago.

Webb looked at her and whispered. "I'll try and keep them from you as long as I can, escape if you can, don't worry about me. We've gotten Garcia, contact Deputy Director Kershaw tell him, do not go through Hardy, we have to get the Stingers, Gunny said they were moving them."

"We had to have been betrayed Clay."

Webb only nodded in the affirmative as two armed gunmen kicked the door open. "Williams, Come." They spoke in heavily accented English.

Webb stood and looked back at Mac. "I'm sorry….Jane"

0845

Monday

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Harm walked through the glass doors into JAG Ops; he glanced across the bullpen to see Petty Officer Coates approaching. "Any coffee left Petty Officer?"

"I'm not sure…sir" She noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days.

"Put some on… make it High Test." His look emphasizing that he needed a strong pot of coffee.

"Yes, sir." She headed for the break room but glanced worriedly over her shoulder.

A few minutes later Petty Officer Coates brought the Commander's coffee.

"Coates, ask the Admiral if I can see him….as soon as he is available."

"Yes, sir" Coates was still eyeing him curiously, but she knew better than to ask

"Close the hatch, Petty Officer."

Harm picked up his coffee cup and raising it to his lips, remembered the terrible dream he had about Mac, the night before. He had dreamt she and Webb had been betrayed in their mission, and he saw them both murdered. Harm sat his coffee cup down and closed his eyes, squeezing them tight to banish the vision from his minds eye. There had to be a way he could reach them, he had to know…. he had to find out if they were all right.

He berated himself, as he had since waking from his nightmare, last night. This mission came so quickly on the heels of his ordeal with NCIS; he was still reeling from his time in the brig. He should have insisted he be allowed to accompany them, it didn't matter in what capacity. Picking up his coffee cup from the desk and taking a deep drink, he turned his chair to face the window. Then the thought occurred to him….

Maybe there was someone who could help him locate her.

_At that same moment…._

Admiral Chegwidden sat at his desk with the phone to his ear, listening intently to the SecNav on the other end of the line.

"I see…..yes, sir. I understand. I understand how vital this mission is…"

The Admiral was becoming impatient but reining it in very well.

"But if I may sir, it seems to me that I've allowed one of my people to, once again, volunteer to walk into a hornets nest."

The SecNav tried to reassure and humor him._ "We've been over this before. She was the best person for this mission, her language skills and the fact that she was a Marine made her a perfect fit. Face it, AJ; you're the Judge Advocate General of the Navy, who happens to also be a SEAL. You have a team of 'combat lawyers.' They have always been counted on to accomplish their mission, in or out of the courtroom. You have to know that we will tap them now and again, should it suit our purposes."_

'That may be true sir, but the mission is much easier and involves much less risk, when the parties carrying out the mission aren't in the dark." The Admiral was unable to keep the edge out of his voice.

"_I will contact Deputy Director Kershaw; he may contact you or update you on their status through me. I understand your concerns AJ; let me see what I can accomplish, from my end."_

"Thank you, sir."

The admiral ended the call.

Just then Petty Officer Coates buzzed his office, "Sir?"

"Yes Petty Officer."

"Commander Rabb has requested a few moments of your time, when you are available."

The Admiral shook his head. "Tell him I'll get back with him…. later today."

This was going to be a long day.

1530

Outside Admiral Chegwidden's office

Harm stepped up to Petty Officer Coates desk. "Tell the Admiral I'd like to see him, Petty Officer."

He had been waiting all day, he had spoken with Catherine Gale at Langley, to no avail. She sympathized with him, spoke of her admiration of Colonel Mackenzie, but could only say she would pass her concerns on to her superiors.

Coates did as she was asked and Commander Rabb was allowed to see the Admiral.

"Sir, I was hoping you might have some idea about the Colonel's whereabouts."

"I just got off of the phone with Deputy Director Kershaw. The Station Chief at Ciudad, Del Este is reporting that Colonel Mackenzie is missing somewhere in the hinterlands of the Chaco Boreal."

"If Webb has gotten her killed…" He had known something had gone wrong with the mission. He could feel it.

"You know she's with Agent Webb?"

"I know he sweet talked her into accompanying him on a mission as his pregnant wife…She's not….is she dead?" She couldn't be. He could not fathom it. He covered his eyes with his hand and turned away from the Admiral.

"We have no way of knowing"

"What about Webb?' Harm's voice was harsh with retrained anger. At this moment, he thought if Webb made it through the mission, and had gotten Mac killed in the process, he'd kill Webb, himself.

"If Mac has been killed, its likely Webb was too."

Harm started to speak and the Admiral cut him off. "No" he said firmly.

"But I haven't even asked."

"You cannot go down there, I already have one senior attorney mixed up in a Company mission, I'm not sending another…."

'That's not acceptable." Harm didn't let the Admiral finish, he didn't see that the Admiral was as frustrated with this situation as he was.

The Admiral drew his brow down. "Excuse me Commander?" He stepped in front of him, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"It's not acceptable sir, its Mac, I can't leave her…we can't leave her…" Jesus, he was barely hanging on to his control, even the thought that she might be lost to him forever, was unbearable. "I can't just sit up here and do nothing, sir"

"Do I need to remind you that you have just returned from the Brig? That you barely escaped imprisonment at Leavenworth for life? There is no JAG business in Paraguay, I cant justify sending you down there."

"Then I request emergency leave, sir." Harm didn't even acknowledge what the Admiral said, he could only think of Mac and that he had to get to her, no matter what it took.

"Denied. Commander, you're not making sense. You've already damn near scuttled your career, now this. You're making it impossible to help you. I cannot in clear conscience send you into a mission that has already been compromised. I am in touch with Deputy Director Kershaw…

"Then I quit, sir. Consider my commission resigned and my status terminal leave. The paperwork will be on your desk within the hour." He couldn't listen to any more of this; he knew deep down that Mac was in terrible danger, what he had just learned, confirmed that. He couldn't believe that the Admiral wouldn't even consider allowing him to go. No matter, he thought, he would get there and he would find them, he'd find a way. He had been offered a job with the Company once; he decided he would pay the people at Langley a visit, as soon as he tendered his resignation.

"Do what you have to do." Suddenly he was tired of fighting Rabb to keep him from ruining his career. If he didn't value it, why should he? "You're dismissed."

As Harm walked out the door of his office the Admiral stopped him and asked. "Commander you're about to give up your career and possibly your life to save her. What if you succeed, what are you willing to do keep her?"

Harm turned back and looked at the Admiral directly. "I have every intention of keeping her, sir. I'll do whatever it takes."

He turned again, and walked out of the Admirals office.

0930

Tuesday

Sadiq Fahd's compound

Chaco Boreal, Paraguay

Mac was awakened by the sound of the door being opened. The two men who had taken Webb last night had returned him. This was his second night in a row of torture.

Mac called to him, 'Darling,' in her role as Mrs. Williams.

"Hello sweetheart." He said brokenly as Mac helped him to the bed.

Webb's face was a swollen mass of blood red cuts and he smelled of burning flesh. If she had not known him, she would never have recognized him. She looked to the closed door to their quarters and the window beyond, trying to see if their captors were listening to them. "My god….I knew it would be bad, but I didn't expect this."

He looked at her, his eyes eerily blue against the red of the skin around his eyes. "Mac, I'm so sorry…I never, I didn't believe it would go this far."

"I know, I know, and stop apologizing, I volunteered for this, remember?" She tried to stroke his head, but there was no where to touch him that wasn't broken or bruised. She reached for his hand and his fingernails had been plucked out, some of his fingers were crooked, as though they had been broken.

"Mac, if we get out of here, I swear…" He was short of breath and it was obvious that he was struggling with the pain, even now. All of the arrogance and acerbic wit was absent from his demeanor now. He was giving up, something she had never seen him do; in all the years she had known him. Surely he wouldn't give up now, and leave her alone, he had to hang on.

"Not 'if' Clay, when."

Now, she hoped with all her heart that Harm was coming, as Webb had believed, that he would not allow them to be forgotten, in spite of the risk. The thought of Harm was all that was getting her through this. She couldn't believe that the Fates could be so cruel as to separate them when they had finally acknowledged their feelings for each other. "Rest…we'll get out of here, someone will come. Maybe Gunny got away."

She felt Webb's body go slack as he slipped out of consciousness; his exhaustion had finally overtaken his pain. She laid him out on the bed, hoping he could rest and somehow recover enough to get away, once they were rescued. She refused to believe that someone wouldn't come.

She walked to the screened window and looked out, thinking she heard someone speaking, in English. She heard a man speaking, through the window of the building adjacent to theirs. "Karla, I'll read our devotions today."

Mac thought they must be the missionaries who had been missing from the Chaco Boreal for over a month. Warren and Karla Robinson.

She heard the man begin to read:

"_For what is a man that You are mindful of him_

_or the son of man that You take care of him?_

_You have made him a little lower than the angels:_

_You have crowned him with glory and honor,_

_And set him over the works of your hands._

_You have put all things in subjection under his feet."_

Mac heard the verse and it moved her nearly to tears. She remembered Harm and what he said when she asked him if he thought she needed a guardian angel.

She spoke aloud, as though it were a prayer. "Harm… I need… you."

TBC

A/N: I used the term 'combat lawyers' in this chapter. I first read that term used in reference to the 'team' at JAG in the fanfic, 'Sail Away' by Valerie Jones. I thought it was a pretty apt description of the Admirals staff at JAG Ops. (grin)

A/N: I didn't use AJ and Meredith's engagement or Harm's silly fake marriage to Catherine Gale in this story. I thought both B stories were aggravating, with everything that was going on in the Chaco Boreal. I'm not trying to turn this into a discussion; I just wanted to explain why I didn't mention those two things.


	7. Chapter 7

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 7

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters; I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any episode through Season 8. The episodes 'A Tangled Webb' I and II.

All mistakes are mine. Just wanted to finally get this posted.

Rating K

0900

Wednesday

Edward Hardy's office

Ciudad Del Este, Paraguay

Harm stepped out of the CIA Station Chief's office door. As he looked at the people passing on the street, the thought occurred to him, that asking any one of them if they knew where Mac was, would have been more productive than asking Edward Hardy. He had told him nothing. His last words to Harm still rang in his ears. 'Life in Ciudad Del Este is cheap Mr. Rabb, you can trust no one.' Harm thought that he would put Hardy at the top of the list of people who couldn't be trusted. Hardy knew something alright, something he didn't intend to tell him. If Harm didn't know before his trip to Paraguay, he knew now, he was on his own.

Harm walked down the crowded sidewalk and as he did, he sensed someone following him, looking around he noticed a man turning quickly, apparently to keep from being recognized. He continued down the sidewalk, quickly slipping into an alley, out of the man's sight. He waited until the man had caught up to him and had nearly smashed the man's face in, when he realized he had Gunny pinned against the wall.

"Gunny?'

"Is that any way to treat a friend…sir?" He held his hands up, chuckling at the Commanders surprised expression.

"What are you doing here?" Harm already knew... this had Webb written all over it, too.

"I was assigned TAD to Mr. Webb, over a month ago, sir. I was assigned to the barracks at Asuncion, before that." He was glad to see someone from JAG, someone he felt he could actually trust.

"You can drop the 'sir' Gunny, I resigned my commission."

"Sir? I mean, excuse me?" Gunny couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I can't go into it now; I just couldn't keep my commission and try to find Mac too. So I resigned." Harm looked away, saying it aloud made what he had done seem more real and he just didn't want to think about that now.

Gunny looked as though he didn't know what to say.

"Don't worry about it Gunny, just tell me what you know."

Gunny told him all that had happened, even before Mac had arrived as 'Mrs. Williams'.

He told him of Raul Garcia, Sadiq Fahd's middleman, about the Predator strike on his hacienda that eliminated him. He told him that he believed Sadiq had been tipped off by someone. To Gunny, it was the only logical explanation because just before Mr. Webb was to order another Predator strike, this time on Sadiq's compound, the Stingers that Garcia had delivered, had been moved. Gunny had been captured, just as he communicated the movement of the weapons to Webb. Gunny blamed himself for Webb and Mac's capture, telling Harm they were trying to rescue him.

Harm thought that the rescue probably hadn't been Webb's idea, he was furious with him for involving Mac in this and at himself for not being there for her. He should have found a way.

"So you think someone in Raul Garcia's camp tipped Sadiq Fahd?"

"Maybe, or someone in the CIA?" Gunny looked over his shoulder toward the Station Chief's office, and Harm understood immediately to whom Gunny was referring.

1100

Wednesday

April 30, 2003

Office of the Secretary of the Navy

Pentagon

Admiral Chegwidden had just been shown into Secretary Sheffield's office. He greeted the Admiral, "Take a seat, AJ."

"Thank you Mr. Secretary." The Admiral's tone was pleasant enough, but his expression indicated that this was not a friendly visit.

"What can I do for you?"

"I think we're beyond what you can do for me sir." He looked at the SecNav directly.

"Come again?" Sheffield was taken aback.

"I have received no word about my Chief of Staff; I assume that since I haven't heard from you that you haven't heard anything from Kershaw, either."

"No, I haven't." The Naval secretary narrowed his eyes, knowing where this conversation was going.

"One of my best attorneys resigned his commission to try and locate her." He held his cover in his hands, studying it as he spoke.

"I did hear about that, its unfortunate."

"I don't suppose you know anything about his whereabouts?" The Admiral looked back up at him again.

"No, I'm sorry; I only know that he contacted friends at Langley, who offered him a job, if he were able to 'clean up' the mission that Colonel Mackenzie and Agent Webb had begun."

"I see, so I'm to understand that we are to continue to wait, and trust that the Company will come through, by way of an excellent officer who had to resign to rescue his colleague." The Admirals voice was firm as he looked sharply at his boss.

"You accepted the resignation AJ, and it's my understanding that while Rabb is a brilliant attorney that he could be, shall we say, a 'problem child' at times." The SecNav frowned at him, seemingly confused and slightly irritated about the Admirals demeanor as he spoke about this. The SecNav was not accustomed to being spoken to this way.

"I think you should make yourself more …clear Admiral Chegwidden."

The Admiral sat quietly for a moment, and then answered, "It is true….I did accept his resignation, and I will make myself more clear…sir."

Silence.

"Mr. Secretary, I'd like to review the events of the last oh…six months or so, and after I finish, I'd like to you tell me what recourse I had, other to accept Commander Rabb's resignation. I would also like your….input as to how you would look at your…situation, were you in my position."

The SecNav nodded, "Proceed, Admiral." AJ was suddenly absent and now Sheffield put protocols firmly back in place.

"Earlier this year, we had the 'privilege' of having Lt Commander Manetti join our ranks at JAG; she was a welcome addition, contributing a great deal to JAG Ops. …Months later, we learn, that you had in fact 'planted' Commander Manetti at JAG. Apparently you needed to, in effect, 'spy' on the personnel at JAG, because you weren't sure you could 'trust' us. I was only to learn of this after an exhaustive audit, ordered by this office, conducted by a person clearly set on breaking up our team at JAG and smearing the reputations of my senior staff."

The Admiral rose from his seat and walked to the window overlooking the courtyard outside the SecNav's office. He looked back at him "Is that pretty accurate so far, sir?"

The SecNav frowned, thinking it was time to warn the Admiral that he was dangerously close to overstepping his bounds. "I suppose that is true." The SecNav mimicked the Admiral's earlier move, by folding his arms across his chest. "Take care."

"Yes, sir, I fully intend to. And I forgot to mention another point, during the audit that was conducted at JAG, your assistant Commander Lindsey, nearly succeeded in framing and destroying the career of one of my best officers." The Admiral turned to look at him.

'Unfortunately that is true."

"Now, Mr. Secretary, since Commander Rabb had just spent a week in the brig and since JAG Ops is under greater scrutiny than ever, how was I supposed to do anything other than accept his resignation?"

"Look, AJ…I know this is difficult." The SecNav relented; he understood that Commander Rabb had been on the Admiral's staff longer than anyone currently at JAG. There was also scuttlebutt that he saw Rabb as someone who could step into his position as JAG someday.

"Sir, if you'll excuse me, I am well aware of what this is. I've been thinking of nothing else for the last 4 days." He walked back to his seat in front of the SecNav's desk and stood behind it.

"As I recall you said during our last conversation that I was a Judge Advocate General, who happened to be a SEAL, and that my senior attorneys, were 'combat lawyers'."

"Yes, you all have quite a reputation." The SecNav couldn't help smiling at the thought.

"That we do, sir, but in all honesty, I don't think I've been living up to my reputation in the last few months. I feel as though I've allowed people outside JAG to come in and use my staff, to spy on them, put their lives and careers in danger and as their commanding officer, I've done nothing about it."

"What are you trying to tell me AJ?" Sheffield peered at him over his glasses.

"What I'm telling you… sir, is that this is no longer acceptable" The Admiral echoed the words of his senior attorney, spoken just days before.

The SecNav leaned forward in his seat. "AJ, I understand you may look on some members of your staff as family but you are still not making it clear what you intend to do."

"What I should have done months ago, I'm going to take care of the people under my command." The Admiral rose from his seat and the SecNav stood with him.

"Careful Admiral, consider your career."

"I am considering my career, sir; I'm considering my duty as commanding officer and my training as a SEAL. If my career, under your command requires me to forget any one of these things, it is time for me to retire."

The Admiral did not wait for a reply; he placed his cover under his arm, turned on his heel and started for the door. "If you'll excuse me sir."

Sheffield looked at him. "Admiral Chegwidden."

The Admiral looked back at him, without answering him.

"I don't want to know about any of it…. and I had better not 'hear' anything, either."

The Admiral studied him for a moment, understanding that he was being given permission to do what he had to do, as quietly as possible. "Yes, sir."

As the Admiral made his way back to JAG, he remembered the SecNav's words, 'you may look on some members of your staff as family' He hadn't really given it a lot of thought before. He supposed he did think of Rabb in a fatherly way, at times, but not in the way the SecNav was referring to.

Rabb wasn't one of those 'sons' who hung on your every word and tried to emulate everything you did. He was the kind that tried your patience, managed to get himself into more trouble in one day, than most people got into in the course of a year. He had pulled Rabb back in, after he had gone out on a limb, more times than he cared to remember.

The Admiral shook his head as he exited onto the Beltway, still deep in thought. He decided that Harmon Rabb had being a pain in the ass down to a science….and if anything happened to him or Mac, he would never forgive himself.

The circumstances of his life and his choice of career had allowed Admiral Chegwidden to be close to few people, even his own daughter. It occurred to him that he knew his two senior attorneys better and had spent more time with them than he had any member of his own family.

He was even more determined now to see to it that they were not 'left behind.' They were members of his 'team' and he would see to it that they returned home.

If they were still alive…..

1423

Wednesday

Sadiq Fahd's compound

Harm and Gunny were able to approach the compound without detection. They saw a couple being led out of a small building. As Harm watched them, the hair stood up on the back of his neck, they were going to be killed and it seemed as soon as the thought occurred to him, the couple lay dead on the ground. The shooter, who he assumed was Sadiq Fahd, killed the woman first, in front of her husband, adding one more cruel twist to what must have been a terrible ordeal for them.

Harm looked away for a moment and then refocused the field glasses in time to see Mac being led to a small white building. "It's Mac."

"She's alive." Gunny spoke his relief aloud.

After they disappeared from his sight, Harm heard someone, nearly screaming, 'don't tell me about my religion woman! There is a fatwa; it says I can kill Americans when and where I find them."

"She won't be for long if we don't get to her." Harm began to raise himself up from his hidden position. They quickly created a diversion by rolling their jeep into the compound. They armed themselves and took on Sadiq's men, one by one.

He ran in the direction of the building to which Mac had been led. He killed anyone who stood in his path, only thinking he had to reach her in time, before anyone took her from him.

When he finally reached the building, he kicked the door open, firing on a man who stood on the other side of a table on which Mac had been chained "Mac!" He was panting, his eyes wild, already assessing her, looking for any injury.

He frantically freed her hands first, and then they both unshackled her feet. As soon as she was completely freed, he pulled her from the table. "Can you walk?"

"Yes" Mac jumped down from the table and Harm grasped her arm and they ran toward the jeep and Gunny. Mac had held on to the back of his jacket tightly as she ran.

As they reached the jeep, it had suddenly become quiet, and then Gunny called to them, "No sign of Sadiq, he must have escaped during the gunfire, took the Stingers! Where is Mr. Webb?"

Mac pointed to the building in which she had last seen Webb and Gunny ran in that direction, still keeping his weapon ready, should he encounter anyone hidden in the building.

Harm quickly looked around the perimeter of the compound and then he pulled Mac into his arms, closing his eyes, "Mac" he rasped, relief at seeing her alive, flooding through his heart and mind.

Mac wrapped her arms around his waist, grasping his jacket, pressing her cheek into the solid wall of his chest. She was holding on as if, she would collapse if he let go.

Mac was still trying to absorb what had just happened, Harm was filling all her senses, holding her so tightly it was almost painful, but she wouldn't have been able to let go at that moment if she tried. He was life and hope when death was all around her. When her captors began to shackle her to the table, she was thinking of a way to prepare herself for whatever they did. She had to hang on until Harm came for them, and then like an answered prayer, he was there.

Harm loosened his grip and then placed a hand on each side of her face, tilting it up, he searched her eyes. "Tell me you're all right…tell me they didn't hurt you." His voice was still tight with emotion.

"I'm all right… now. I can't believe you came, I hoped you would, but when they came for me, I…They didn't really hurt me It was just…Clay" Mac had every emotion rushing through her at once. Love, relief, fear, guilt, joy, sorrow, everything, she could barely contain it.

Just then they both heard Webb call to her, "Sarah"

Mac pulled back from Harm, and started to walk toward the jeep, where Gunny had helped Webb into the front seat. She grasped Harm's hand as she stepped away, interlocking their fingers. Looking back at him, she closed her other hand over Harm's as they walked. Her eyes reflected the toll the last few days had taken; he knew her well enough to see that she felt responsible for Webb's condition.

Mac stepped inside the open door of the jeep and started to reach for Webb's arm, to comfort him, but then she remembered how he had been tortured. She withdrew her hand, fearing her touch would hurt him. "We'll get you to a hospital Clay; you're going to be all right now."

Webb nodded, "You were a good wife Mac" He looked over Mac's shoulder at Harm and said, "Take care of her Rabb."

Harm looked at him, taking in the terrible shape he was in, but at the same time still resenting what Webb's 'mission' has cost them all. "I will Webb, I always have."

"It's more than I could do." The resignation was still in his voice, he still seemed to be accepting that he was going to die.

"Clay, it's going to be okay." Mac looked over her shoulder at Harm.

He walked up to the jeep and carefully placed a hand on Webb's shoulder. "Let Gunny get you to a hospital, we'll do what we can here."

Gunny had gotten into the jeep and Mac walked over to the driver's side window. "It's been a pleasure working with you again, ma'am."

"Semper Fi Marine."

"Semper Fi ma'am."

Harm and Mac watched as Gunny drove away. Harm touched Mac on the back of her arm, and then couldn't resist clasping her to him as they walked to find a vehicle to take them from the compound. "So what do you know that I need to know?"

Mac looked up at him, knowing that she must look and smell like hell. Harm's expression didn't reflect anything of the sort. The soft look on his face now, the tone of his voice and what she felt when he touched her, took her back to what they had only just begun in the last few weeks. His arm around her shoulders centered her very being and made her feel safe for the first time in days. Their connection was and had nearly always been 'home' to her.

TBC

A/N: I apologize for how long I'm taking with this. I had the grand kids last weekend, celebrating the oldest granddaughter's birthday, and yesterday another granddaughter was born. #3! My son says soon he'll have a whole cheerleading squad. LOL. I meant to make this longer, but I wanted to post what I had. I'll try and post again before Friday night.

Thanks everyone for your interest.


	8. Chapter 8

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 8

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Anything up through Season 8, including A Tangled Webb II in Season 9. The Season 5 episode 'Cabin Pressure' will be touched upon.

From Chapter 7

_Mac was still trying to absorb what had just happened, Harm was filling all her senses, holding her so tightly it was almost painful, but she wouldn't have been able to let go at that moment if she tried. He was life and hope when death was all around her. When her captors began to shackle her to the table, she was thinking of a way to prepare herself for whatever they did. She had to hang on until Harm came for them, and then like an answered prayer, he was there. _

_Harm loosened his grip and then placed a hand on each side of her face, tilting it up, he searched her eyes. "Tell me you're all right…tell me they didn't hurt you." His voice was still tight with emotion._

"_I'm all right… now. I can't believe you came, I hoped you would, but when they came for me, I…They didn't really hurt me It was just…Clay" Mac had every emotion rushing through her at once. Love, relief, fear, guilt, joy, sorrow, everything, she could barely contain it._

_Just then they both heard Webb call to her, "Sarah"_

_Mac pulled back from Harm, and started to walk toward the jeep, where Gunny had helped Webb into the front seat. She grasped Harm's hand as she stepped away, interlocking their fingers. Looking back at him, she closed her other hand over Harm's as they walked. Her eyes reflected the toll the last few days had taken; he knew her well enough to see that she felt responsible for Webb's condition. _

_Mac stepped inside the open door of the jeep and started to reach for Webb's arm, to comfort him, but then she remembered how he had been tortured. She withdrew her hand, fearing her touch would hurt him. "We'll get you to a hospital Clay; you're going to be all right now."_

_Webb nodded, "You were a good wife Mac" He looked over Mac's shoulder at Harm and said, "Take care of her, Rabb."_

_Harm looked at him, taking in the terrible shape he was in, but at the same time still resenting what Webb's 'mission' has cost them all. "I will Webb, I always have."_

"_It's more than I could do." The resignation was still in his voice, he still seemed to be accepting that he was going to die._

"_Clay, it's going to be okay." Mac looked over her shoulder at Harm._

_He walked up to the jeep and carefully placed a hand on Webb's shoulder. "Let Gunny get you to a hospital, we'll do what we can here." _

_Gunny had gotten into the jeep and Mac walked over to the driver's side window. "It's been a pleasure working with you again, ma'am."_

"_Semper Fi Marine." _

"_Semper Fi ma'am."_

_Harm and Mac watched as Gunny drove away. Harm touched Mac on the back of her arm, and then couldn't resist clasping her to him as they walked to find a vehicle to take them from the compound. "So what do you know that I need to know?"_

_Mac looked up at him, knowing that she must look and smell like hell. Harm's expression didn't reflect anything of the sort. The soft look on his face now, the tone of his voice and what she felt when he touched her, took her back to what they had only just begun in the last few weeks. His arm around her shoulders centered her very being and made her feel safe for the first time in days. Their connection was and had nearly always been 'home' to her._

1640

Wednesday

Near the Rio Verde

Chaco Boreal, Paraguay

Securing a vehicle and getting away from the compound had been relatively easy. The little van they found had allowed them to find Harm's dream and Mac's nightmare.

A bi plane.

They'd found it on a Mennonite farm, the farmer who owned it, also had a barn with easy access to a few sticks of dynamite and material for a fuse. Harm couldn't believe their luck, but he didn't take time to question it. Mac posed as a pregnant woman in distress and he, as her husband. They were in the air in moments and it was not long before they were able to locate Sadiq's men and the semi trailer of Stingers that Gunny had told Harm about. They were able to destroy it, in spite of being fired upon by the men using the shoulder fired missiles.

The irony was, just as they thought were able to make their escape….. they ran out of gas.

_**1 hour later….**_

As he began to regain consciousness, the first things Harm heard were the sounds of the jungle, of the birds, the rustle of the trees around him. The strong smell of sap from the trees and broken branches around him mingled with the smoke from the engine of the ruined plane confused him at first, until he opened his eyes. His head was pounding and he felt pain behind his eyes; it had hurt to open them. He felt something wet and sticky trickling down the side of his face. Lifting his head, he touched the source of pain at his forehead, when he looked at his fingers again; they were covered in blood. He looked around him, his vision blurred, he immediately thought of Mac. The seat in front of him was empty. Where was she?

He called out to her brokenly, "Mac!" He looked all around him, thinking she had been thrown from the plane. Had he come all this way to save her, only to get her killed in the jungles of the Chaco Boreal? He took his weapon from inside the plane and slowly lifted him self out.

Stumbling away from plane, he thought he could hear the sound of vehicles on a road; he walked unsteadily toward the rumbling sound. He found what he knew were her goggles hanging from a branch on a tree. Had they been torn from her when the plane crashed? His vision was still unclear and his mind was instantly turning to the worse case scenario. Everything he had seen so far convinced him; she had to have been thrown from the plane. He had to find her.

After reaching the road, trying to flag down a truck and nearly being run down by another, Harm heard another vehicle, coming up on him fast. He turned toward the blue blur speeding toward him and was startled by what he thought was a gunshot. He quickly took his weapon from the back of his jeans, lifted it and fired.

Mac saw Harm stumbling in the road as she approached and she'd seen his near miss with the vehicle in front of her, just before she felt her front passenger side tire blow. When she saw Harm lift his weapon and fire, she slammed on her brakes and turned the wheel to get control of the truck.

She yelled as loudly as she could, "Harm? What are you doing? You nearly killed me!"

Harm stood stunned for a moment, he recognized Mac's voice. "I heard gunfire; I thought you were a terrorist." He still looked confused, his eyes still straining to clear his vision.

"It was my tire, I had a blowout." Mac was already walking back to the bed of the truck to get the spare, so they could get the hell out of there.

The only thing that was keeping Mac sane was getting in 'mission mode.' She'd thought he was in a lot worse condition than he appeared to be now. She had checked his pulse before she left him in the plane and found it strong, but he did not respond when she'd tried to rouse him. All she could think of was getting a vehicle and getting him to a hospital.

Harm walked over to the front of the truck and leaned against it, suddenly exasperated and angry, "Where the hell have you been?"

"I went back to Sadiq's farm. We destroyed the all the missiles, everyone at the farm is dead. I took the truck so I…."

"You're not supposed to leave the plane Mac." Harm interrupted her, sounding terse and seeming not to hear anything she was saying.

Mac looked up at his stern expression, looking as though he expected an immediate explanation for her actions. She continued to change the tire and decided that she wasn't going to answer him, he was still getting his bearings, he wasn't being reasonable, she understood that, but his attitude was beginning to get to her. Why was 'he' being so nasty? He'd just shot at her for God's sake.

She changed the tire in short order and when she stood, she faced Harm. It was the first time she noticed the cut on his forehead. "Are you alright?" She reached up to touch his face and look at the cut more closely.

"I'm fine; you're just a little blurry right now." He pulled back from her touch, suddenly feeling like a jerk for being so short with her.

"Let's just get out of here; you need to see a doctor about that cut."

Harm started to take the keys from Mac. "I'll be fine, and I'm driving."

"I don't think so." Mac started for the driver's side of the truck, with the keys in hand.

"I'm driving." He said it impatiently and took a step toward her.

Mac had enough; she turned quickly back toward him, digging in her heels, literally and figuratively. "Look, I have nearly been killed twice today and there are 5 hours, 49 minutes and 6 seconds left in this day. The third risk I take today may actually kill me and I don't intend to take that chance. Now, get in!"

Mac got into the vehicle without looking at him again, and surprisingly, he had gotten in on the passenger side, apparently still cross with her, but quiet.

They were on their way in moments and Harm remained quiet for some time. Finally, he spoke. "So, I'm one the reasons you were almost killed…I guess you didn't want the third time to be a charm."

Mac turned and looked at him incredulously and then returned her attention to the road. "What? Harm…I just want to get back to Ciudad del Este and the States alive. You're the reason I'm alive….you know? If you hadn't come, I don't want to think of where I would be now. We were 'both' almost killed; I wasn't trying to throw it in your face, I just wanted you to stop arguing with me."

Harm nodded but did not look at her. His head was still pounding and he was beginning to get a look at himself, though her eyes. He felt like a heel.

"You took a pretty nasty blow to your head, Harm. Are you still having trouble with your vision?"

"Yeah...but its getting better…I have a hell of a headache, though." He looked out of the window on his side of the truck, the concern on her face and in her voice was making it difficult to look at her just now.

Mac reached for his hand and he automatically closed his hand around hers. He looked back in her direction, seeing how worried she was about him.

"I'll be okay Mac" He looked tired and his eyes appeared heavy lidded.

"I know you will, but maybe you shouldn't sleep, at least not until we know that you're alright."

Harm gave her a sleepy but mischievous grin and asked, "What are we going to do to keep me awake?"

Mac turned her attention from the road for a second and smiled at him, as he waggled his eyebrows at her.

Pretending to be prim, she pointed to the glove compartment and asked. "Maybe you can be 'my' navigator, and after we figure out where the hell we are….you can tell me how beautiful I am."

She looked at him, with her tangled and tousled hair, dirty clothes and a greasy smear on her cheek.

"You are beautiful, Mackenzie." He had to admit, she was a mess, but he hadn't been insincere in his praise, she was beautiful, all the time, to him.

"Thank you, Harm." She batted her eyes daintily and the situation suddenly struck both of them as so funny that they laughed out loud, as they trundled down the Trans Chaco Highway.

1025

Thursday

May 1, 2003

American Airlines

Flight 635

Somewhere over the Southern Atlantic

Admiral Chegwidden unbuckled his seatbelt; the plane would be landing at Guarani International Airport, within the hour. Turning to look at his traveling companion, his mind wandered back to the conversation he had with his former SEAL team mate, the former Vice Admiral Richard Kern. He had been retired for over 4 years now, but the Admiral didn't trust anyone else to know what he had to do.

When he had explained it fully, Kern had insisted on helping him, confirming what the Admiral had always known about his friend. They had fought together, and bled together, he would back him up without question. Kern seemed more relaxed, surprisingly happy in his retirement. His friend had always seemed to take all the transitions in his life in his stride, but he had a wife who had been with him for over 40 years. They didn't seem to be just marking time together; they had a good marriage, the real thing. Retirement sounded great, if you had a life to retire to, he wasn't sure he did. He cared for Meredith, but to marry her, he wasn't sure he had another commitment like that in him.

Kern had asked him after he had filled him in on the details of their 'mission.' "Rabb…that name is familiar. Hey, didn't he get trapped below on the Suribachi when you came to my retirement party, aboard the Manassas?"

The Admiral had told him it was, chuckling, as he remembered another time that Rabb was up to his ass in alligators.

"Big risk Chegwidden, for a person not under your command anymore, I've got nothing to lose, I'm retired, but you could lose it all."

"My Chief of Staff is also missing in the Chaco Boreal, Kern." This trip had been as much about Harm as it was about Mac, but he would have never admitted it to Kern. But then, he didn't have to, his old friend already knew.

"You know AJ, I don't know if you have gotten more tenacious or just cantankerous in your old age." He had been half grinning because he knew what the Admiral's answer would be.

"Shut the hell up Kern"

His old friend had left with him, the following day.

Admiral Chegwidden had spoken to Deputy Director Kershaw, he told him that Webb's mission was partially complete and that Special Forces and 'other' intelligence personnel in the area were to locate and capture Sadiq Fahd, by order of the DCI. When the Admiral asked about his senior attorneys, he was given no information. The Company's mission was not to locate them but to apprehend Sadiq Fahd. As usual, anyone who assisted Company personnel, should they be lost or captured, they were on their own. He did tell him that Webb was alive and that he had reported seeing both Rabb and Mackenzie alive and out of the hands of Sadiq Fahd. He gave him the location of the hospital Webb was in, telling him, any additional information about them would have to come from him.

The Admiral was jarred from his thoughts when his old friend began snoring. He frowned and nudged Kern.

Kern cleared his throat and sat forward, still half asleep, searching for his seat belt.

"Damn Kern, how does your wife put up with that?"

"What can I say? She loves me."

"What did you tell her anyway…about where you were going?"

"I told her the truth that we were going to South America…on a hunting expedition."

The Admiral smirked as they began their descent, Kern was right, he'd told the truth and with any luck, this would be a successful hunting trip.

1300

Thursday

May 1, 2003

Cuidad Del Este, Paraguay

Harm and Mac had driven all night; Harm had taken over at day break when Mac was convinced that he was beginning to recover. They had gone to Edward Hardy's office, only to find it completely empty. Deciding they were too tired and dirty to do anything else without a change of clothes and a bath, they went back to the Nuevo Hotel Simpatico, using the hotel room she had shared with Webb.

After taking a quick bath Harm lay back on the bed, listening to the sound of Mac's soft laughter as she splashed around in her bath. The sound wrapped itself around his head and sent tingling sensations down his spine, even in the midst of all that was happening. "Hey what are you doing in there anyway?" He'd said it playfully, teasing her, trying to keep things light.

"I'm washing about a week of dirt off of me. I'm enjoying my bath." She actually giggled, how many times had he ever heard her do that?

Harm had gotten up and started to slowly pace the room to distract himself, when he heard a knock at their hotel room door. He tucked his weapon into the back of his jeans and then said quietly outside the bathroom door, "man on deck."

"What?" Mac brought her knees up and slid nearer the side of the tub.

"We've got company." He placed her weapon within her reach, bending down close enough to take in the scent of her bubble bath and to see the slightest hint of her sleek curves beneath the clouds of bubbles in the water.

She smiled at him slyly. "What?" Mac saw his eyes, taking in her body from head to toe.

He stood up straight and as he back away he said, "You know…what." The light from the windows seemed to make her skin glow; it appeared bronze against the white of the tub. Her dark hair, still wet, was combed back from her face, causing her beautiful eyes to appear larger than they were. Another knock at the door pulled his attention away and he slipped out the door and closed it.

1545

Thursday

May 1

Clinica Medica

Abai, Paraguay

Clayton Webb lay flat on his back; he had still been in terrible pain from the wounds inflicted on his body at the hands of Sadiq Fahd's men. He refused pain medication and had only slept when his exhaustion overtook his pain.

Gunny sat at his bedside. He'd just spoken to Webb's attending physician in the small hospital. The doctor said Webb had improved, but was far from being stable enough to travel.

Webb woke with a start and 'ordered' Gunny to get him his pants so that they could get back to Ciudad Del Este.

Gunny refused, having been instructed by Deputy Director Kershaw himself, to stand down this mission and to stay with Webb until he was transported back to the States. As Webb tried to pull himself upright from the bed, they were both startled by a familiar voice, stepping into their curtained cubicle.

"Where do you think you're going Webb? You and I have business to discuss."

The Admiral stepped more closely to his bedside, and though he was dressed in civvies, still had a commanding air about him.

Webb allowed Gunny to help him lie back on the hospital bed. "Admiral." Webb said it weakly, his injuries still very obvious to anyone who looked at him.

Gunny stood up straight, "Sir."

"What the hell are you doing here?" The Admiral asked Gunny incredulously.

"Mr. Webb requested my help with this mission, when I was stationed at the barracks at Asuncion."

The Admiral thought that would explain the 'back up' the SecNav had been talking about. "Where are Colonel Mackenzie and Com" He corrected himself. "…Rabb?"

Gunny looked knowingly at the Admiral; he'd heard his self correction. He still couldn't believe that Commander Rabb has resigned his commission or that it had been accepted.

Noticing the tension in the air immediately Webb asked, "What's going on here?" He was sure there was something he hadn't been told.

Gunny spoke up, looking at the Admiral first, "If I may sir…..The Commander resigned his commission to come down here….to try to find Colonel Mackenzie."

Webb looked at the Admiral as though he didn't quite believe it, "and you accepted it?"

The Admiral drew his brow down and cleared his throat. "That is no concern of yours." And he turned toward Gunny and said, "or yours Gunnery Sergeant."

Gunny answered quickly. "Understood, sir."

"You're going to tell me everything you know Webb, even the things you've kept from your superiors and then you're getting the hell out of here. You've damn near gotten yourself killed; I'll be damn if I will allow my peop….my Chief of Staff to be killed, as well."

Gunny noticed the Admiral's correction; again, when he had begun to speak of his people He understood now that he had come for the Commander as well as Colonel Mackenzie, he had studied his former commanding officer for years. He had observed more than once that they had a connection that was more than that of a commanding officer for subordinates.

"Admiral" Webb wanted to try to reason with him, it had worked in the past…sometimes.

The Admiral would not allow Webb to continue….

"Look, it is my understanding that your part in this mission is over. I have been informed by your deputy director, in so many words, that if I want to locate my personnel, I'm on my own. He told me where to find you, and advised me that any information I might be able to find would be from you."

Webb was quiet for a moment, he knew what the Admiral had said was right, but he still felt he had to finish this. "Admiral, if I don't complete this, my career may be over for all intents and purposes."

The Admiral crossed his arms. "Well Webb, Rabb's career in the Navy seems to be over, maybe you and he can go into some kind of business together. I'm not worried about your career. I want to know everything….now."

Webb saw a look in his eyes that he hadn't seen for some time, the last time had been just before the Admiral had broken his nose. He nodded and told him everything, about where he thought Sadiq was, his possible connection to Hardy's secretary and Hardy's possible complicity in his and Mac's cover being blown.

After he had finished, the Admiral looked at him directly. "As I told you Webb, your part and that of the Company in this mission is over, by order of the DCI. He has informed me that there will be a personnel change in this area soon, I'm not sure what he meant by that and frankly, I don't care. I intend to locate Rabb and Mackenzie and get them the hell out of here. For your sake Mr. Webb, they'd better be alive, and understand this; if you come near JAG Ops, for any reason, while I am still Judge Advocate General, I will have you thrown out. Your days of using my staff are over, are we clear?"

He turned away from Webb without allowing him to answer and as he started to walk away, he stopped and looked at Gunny. "Gunnery Sergeant, once Mr. Webb is transferred out and you return to your barracks, I would strongly advise you, that when you are asked by any Company personnel to assist them, if you are given the option….. say no."

Gunny tried to suppress a smile; he had missed his old boss, even if he was a SEAL. He only nodded, "Yes, sir."

He took a couple of more steps and then turned back again, looking at Webb. "Oh and Webb, I'm going to say something I've always wanted to say to you."

Webb looked at him questioningly before the Admiral stated…

"I was never here."

3 hours later….

It had been Hardy at Harm and Mac's hotel room door; he said he had come as a 'friend.' He told Harm and Mac he believed he had been betrayed by his secretary, Maria Elena. He suggested if they were to engage her in conversation at a local nightclub that she frequented, they might be able to find out just what Maria Elena's connection to Sadiq Fahd might be.

He had asked if Harm knew anything about an explosion in the Chaco that had been heard for miles or a number of men, who were rumored to have been associates of his, being found dead at his hacienda.

Harm told him nothing, and told him he could be of no use to him, since Maria Elena had seen him before. Hardy leered in Mac's direction and said, "But she hasn't met Colonel Mackenzie."

And so they agreed, thinking this would allow them to finally complete the mission, getting Sadiq Fahd into custody, or eliminating him completely. Harm was more inclined to the latter; he knew as long as Fahd was alive, he would keep coming for them, until he killed them both.

He just wanted to finish this and get Mac back to Washington, as quickly as possible; he had already had enough of the murky lines delineating good and evil in the CIA. He wasn't sure what he would do, but as soon as he returned to Washington, his Company days were over.

Later….

Mac was walking back toward Harm, waiting in the truck, just outside the nightclub, impatiently waiting for her. As Mac came closer to him, he couldn't help noticing that she had the eye of every man on the street. There was no uniform or pregnancy suit to cover her decidedly feminine form. Her step was determined, as always but she still had a bit of feminine sway in her hips. It was something about her that always drove him crazy when he'd allowed himself the pleasure of watching her in the past. He gripped the steering wheel more tightly, but when she looked at him, he couldn't help smiling.

She had seen the look on his face; it matched the one he had given her when they were in the hotel room. As she got into the truck, she asked, "Penny for your thoughts, Sailor?"

Harm kept what he felt in check, not looking at her; he answered "I'll keep my thoughts to myself…for now."

He placed the truck in gear and they went to deliver the information they had to Hardy at his 'new' office.

10 minutes later….

Harm and Mac were surprised to find that Hardy's new office was once again, empty. As Harm walked toward the back of the building, he thought he heard something moving near the back window. He turned to look at Mac, and she understood immediately, quietly removing a weapon from her handbag. Moving carefully, she covered the opposite side, along the wall, as she stepped up, even with Harm.

They approached a back door and Harm sidled up to the window, seeing what appeared to be a young Paraguayan man standing just outside the closed back door. He quickly stepped up to the door and kicked it open. He startled the young man out side, who raised his hands and shouted, "Don't shoot!"

Harm pointed his weapon directly at him. "Who are you?" Mac repeated his command in Spanish.

The young man swallowed hard and said, "I am sent to tell you that this shop is under new management and that you and the lady are to return to your house. He said he couldn't keep you safe."

"Who told you to tell us?"

"I don't know him, a man, he looked rich, he gave me this." He held up money he still held in his hand. Though it may not have been a lot, it was more money than the young man had ever seen in his life. Just the same, he would have given it back, to keep the man and woman pointing their guns at him, from killing him.

Harm looked at Mac, silently asking her if she believed him. She nodded the affirmative.

"Get out of here." Harm said impatiently, as he looked at him, still holding his weapon on him until the young man was out of sight.

TBC

A/N: Almost finished with 9 as we speak.


	9. Chapter 9

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 9

Disclaimers: As previously stated.

Spoilers: A Tangled Webb II

Rating T for sexual situations

1730

Thursday

May 1, 2003

Somewhere on Route 9 on the Trans – Chaco Hwy.

Paraguay

Admiral Chegwidden drove the rented Land Rover toward Ciudad Del Este. His friend looked into the rear view mirror on the passenger side door.

"No one tailing us yet." Kern looked across the vehicle.

"I think we're going to cross paths with someone, soon. If my instincts are still in

tact, Sadiq is going to be looking for Rabb and Mackenzie. I wouldn't doubt if he already knows exactly where they are. If Webb was correct in his suspicions about Hardy, if they return to Ciudad Del Este, they're going to be sitting ducks."

"Think the Company has anyone shadowing them?" Kern rested his arm on the door, glancing out the open window.

"I doubt it. I think the Company has been kicked out of this op entirely." Good riddance as far as he was concerned.

Kern frowned, "Special Forces, maybe?"

"Could be, I just want to get to them before Sadiq does."

"Any ideas about where Rabb and Mackenzie might be in Ciudad Del Este?"

"I just hope they weren't stupid enough to go back to the hotel Mac and Webb were staying in, prior to their capture." The Admiral had a sneaking suspicion that had done just that.

Kern pondered his old friend as they drove toward Ciudad Del Este, he understood his loyalty to his people, and he intended to back him up all the way, but he doubted that AJ's loyalty would mean anything to the current SecNav. Kern was hoping that Special Forces got to Fahd before AJ did; he didn't want to see his friend lose his career, because unlike him, the Navy was all AJ had.

1945

Thursday

Ciudad Del Este, Paraguay

Sadiq Fahd, in one of his many incarnations, watched from the café across the street, his disguise enabling him to blend in completely with the local population. A woman he recognized as Jane Williams or Sarah entered the Nuevo Hotel Simpatico with another man. He recognized him as the man who had killed many of his men and had rescued Mr. Williams and his 'wife.' He assumed he had also been responsible for the destruction of the Stinger missiles near the Rio Verde. It was clear to him now, they were American agents. They both had much to answer for. He would let them believe they had escaped him, but they would not. He would wait, until the streets were clear of traffic and people and then he would 'visit' them in their hotel room and make them regret ever interfering with him, in any way.

2032

Thursday

May 1, 2003

Nuevo Hotel Simpatico

Ciudad Del Este, Paraguay

Harm had just finished a phone call; he stood with his back to Mac and placed the handset back down on the receiver. He had just tried to make their reservations for the next flight out of Paraguay to the States. She was getting ready for bed; walking the rest of the way into their small bedroom, she asked. "Any luck?"

He turned to look at her. "Nothing yet." She was dressed in a light cotton t shirt and shorts, but, as always, her body made the t shirt as alluring as anything out of Victoria's Secret. He averted his eyes and walked over to the window looking down on the street.

"We can try again later…or in the morning." There was silence, an awkward silence between them now. "So…I guess its back to JAG for us." Mac wondered where all this would lead, now that they would be able to concentrate on themselves again, suddenly, it seemed a century ago that she had been in Admiral Chegwidden's office being offered her assignment by Clayton Webb. She took a few more steps toward him and he turned back toward the window, appearing surprisingly uncomfortable with her.

"Harm?"

He did not answer her. He didn't know how to explain, he wasn't going back to JAG.

"You know, I haven't even asked. How did you get the Admiral to let you come to Paraguay?"

He waited a beat; there was no other way to begin so he just said it. "I resigned."

"What?" Mac was dumbfounded. The Navy was his life. She couldn't fathom Harm not being in the Navy.

Harm turned back to face her, his expression difficult to read.

"What have you done?" She looked at him in disbelief.

"I had to find you…I didn't have a choice. The Admiral refused to let me go on JAG business, or to grant me emergency leave."

The weight of what Harm had done began to press in on her. He had done exactly what Clay said he would do, but even Clay couldn't have figured that Harm would resign. "Clay…"

Harm cut her off, he didn't want to talk about Webb now, he may have already paid with his life for this mission but he still resented him for placing Mac in this much danger and if the truth were told, resented her for agreeing to it.

"Clay…" He said the name with disgust and turned away from her again, his anger difficult for him to hide. "What about him?"

"I was going to say…you were right, about Clay keeping me in the dark….by the time I had figured out what was really happening, I had to stay for Gunny…..he said you'd come for me…"

Harm finished, still angry…"And save his ass in the process…I still can't believe you trusted him."

"Harm, he wouldn't let them hurt me…he said he'd do everything he could to keep them from me."

Harm turned back toward her and looked at her sharply, he was incredulous. "Keep them from you? He's the reason you here, Mac. If he hadn't gotten you into this…mess, you'd never have been captured."

"He was…..sorry for the way things turned out." The sight of Webb's bloodied face and the sounds of his suffering during his torture were still vivid in her mind.

"Sorry isn't going to cut it this time." He walked away from the window, trying to put some space between them. "Jesus, Mac, they were seconds from torturing you. He didn't keep them from you. They just weren't finished with him yet." He sat down on the arm of the couch in their sitting room. He gave her an appraising look and asked,

"Why are you so concerned about Webb now?"

Mac blanched, 'what was he talking about?' "What?"

"Just how close are you to him now, anyway?" He folded his arms across his chest.

Mac shook her head, still trying to read what she was seeing in his face. "Harm, what are you doing?"

He looked hard at her, his eyes dark with anger.

She took a step toward him. "Don't do this." Her voice was firm but quiet. The part of Harm that was her friend was still inside him somewhere, the one that knew Webb was nothing more than a friend to her, as he was to him. She was going to find that part of him again, if it was the last thing she did.

Harm saw that she was going to walk in his direction. The enormity of what they had just lived through was beginning to hit him; his emotions becoming more difficult to manage by the minute. He loved her, he was angry with her, he wanted to tell her all he felt for her, but they had been so busy trying to survive this fiasco, that he hadn't had the chance. Above all, he had been battling a desire and hunger for her, stronger than he had ever felt before. He got up, passing by her as he walked into the bedroom and sat down unsteadily on one of the chairs, near the bed.

Mac would not allow him to evade her, they had both survived too much today. She walked up to him, and stood directly in front of him. "Harm, stop."

He had avoided looking at her until she spoke. She ran her finger down the side of his face, frowning as she looked at the cut, though it had been covered by a small bandage, a small amount of blood had soaked through. Harm closed his eyes as she touched him, breathing deeply; trying to calm down, her touch always did that for him….until tonight. It only served to inflame him, and his need for her became more urgent.

Her nearness was heightening his senses, while the reality of what she had risked still roiled in his gut. He had to try to explain, he didn't want to be this way, not with her, not now.

"I saw you…I saw you dead, Mac. Before I left Washington, I dreamed you were dead, you and Webb were killed, it was so real, I…" He looked up at her, his eyes reflecting pain, and palpable need. He swallowed hard and continued, "Then…when we crashed, I couldn't find you…I thought you were thrown from the plane…"

He could not keep from reaching for her, his hands grasping her at the curve of her waist.

Shaking his head slightly in frustration, "No matter what I do, every time I think we're finally going to get it right…time and circumstance separate us. You keep slipping through my fingers. "

Mac stepped closer, opening Harm's legs slightly. "I'm not going anywhere. Hold on to me Harm, I want you to hold on. I…need you."

She had barely stopped speaking when he pulled her down to him to take her mouth. His mouth sought hers with a determination to hold, even to dominate. His gentle and sweet kisses before she left for Paraguay were nothing compared to this.

Harm knew he was probably being too rough, but he couldn't seem to stop himself, his need for her was overpowering. About the time he thought he was in enough control to slow down, she stepped even closer to him and rested her knee on his thigh. He drew in a breath sharply, his mouth still exploring hers. The world was Mac, her hands on his shoulders, sliding down his back, the warm recesses of her mouth driving him insane with every taste and touch. Her open legs and the close proximity of her body to his, made every his nerve ending stand on end.

Mac felt him trying to control himself but she needed him now, just like this. She turned her head slightly, allowing him to deepen his kiss, sucking in slightly on his tongue, pulling him in further and letting him know, in no uncertain terms, she was inviting him in.

He answered her with a delicious sound of pleasure from the back of his throat. His hands immediately pressed more firmly, covering her from her neck, down her back, over the curve of her six, to pull in at the back of her legs, bringing her closer and then lifting her onto his lap. Their bodies were connecting in a much more intimate way and generating more heat than either of them thought possible.

Mac felt the tangible evidence of his desire for her when he pressed her to him. The intensity of what she had seen in his eyes before was made apparent in the way he held her. His touch was not tentative or careful now. It held a message of possession; he was claiming her on a level that only someone who loved him would understand. She had never wanted to feel owned by any man, and she still didn't. But here, now, she was his, body and soul.

He wanted to speak her name, to tell her that he loved her, but he couldn't seem to stop kissing her. She was perfect, his perfect opposite and they fit together as though they had been made for each other. It was as though only more of her would ease the gnawing fear of losing her, but it only made him hungry for more. Every sound she made seemed to reverberate inside him, arousing him to a nearly unbearable level.

Harm was finally able to break his kiss, but still held Mac's neck and the back of her head. "Mac…" He was breathless and the deep and husky timbre of his voice caused a pool of warmth to flood deep inside her. "Please…I don't want to wait anymore…" He had wanted to take his time, but now all he felt was this consuming need to taste her skin, to feel more of her skin under his hands.

Mac leaned back from him, deciding to answer him with her actions, as he loosened his grip on her. He didn't have to ask, she couldn't stand to wait another minute.

He looked at her, narrowing his eyes, as they glazed over with full blown desire. Suddenly his mouth was warm on her neck; he couldn't get enough of her. Mac arched her back and pressed into him. Her reactions making him slide his hands back down her body and grasp her at her hips, pushing himself hard against the heat he felt between her legs.

"Hmmm Mac, now, please…" He spoke the words against her neck as made his way down to her collarbone, nibbling as he went.

"Yes…."She drew in a breath sharply as she fisted both of her hands in his hair. His mouth felt so good, she didn't want him to stop. She felt as though she were melting, from the inside out. They did stop, but only for the time it took for them to stand, Harm's lips never far from hers as they made their way to the bed.

Clothing was dispensed of quickly, and Harm eased down beside Mac, suddenly aware of the moment. This was definitely meant to be his last, first time. Placing his hand on her stomach, he spread his fingers wide over the soft skin of her stomach.

Mac caught his gaze and placed her hands on both sides of his face. "Harm…I love you."

As Harm leaned further down, his lips just a breath away from hers, he whispered, "god….I love you too." Then he covered her mouth with his, plunging as deeply as he could, their new position giving him every advantage.

The urgency of the moment spiraled back up with those words of endearment, finally spoken aloud

He began to touch and explore her, his fantasies fulfilled and surpassed. His attraction to her had been almost immediate, from the day he met her. She was strong, smart and intoxicatingly mysterious, not to mention beautiful. Mac had always challenged him as no other woman had, on every level, personal and professional and in bed, she was no different.

His body reacted to her every touch and every sound she made, she knew instinctively the power she had over him and let him know without question that he had her in the palm of his hand.

Their coupling was mind blowing for them both. Harm's body invaded her warm wetness as she spoke his name as if it had been wrenched from her soul. He met her need with brutal desire and she returned it with all that she had.

Fear and death were pushed back from Mac's consciousness as she dove into everything he was giving her. There were moments when Harm feared that he demanded too much from her, and would begin to back way and she would beg him to love her more, to love her harder and he did with bone jarring force.

They proved their love for hours; Harm was hot and thick inside her and she clutched him tightly as warm slick tension coiled within her, her release rushing over him, again and again. When his release came, it left them awed, shaken and spent.

After a time, they came together again losing track of who was on top; they were so consumed by what they had both desired for so long, it ceased to matter.

TBC

A/N: Just sending along a little of the 'good stuff.' This is what I wanted to see in that hotel room in Paraguay. Sigh…..

A/N: Once again, I meant to make this longer, but I have a bear of a cold. So I'll post as soon as I get out from under this.


	10. Chapter 10

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 10

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Anything up to and including ATW II. Events that took place in the Season 2 episode 'Ghosts' will also be touched upon specifically.

Rating K+

2145

Thursday

Cuidad Del Este, Paraguay

Admiral Chegwidden and his friend the former Vice Admiral Kern were walking toward the Nuevo Hotel Simpatico; they had just left a nightclub that Webb told the Admiral about. A club that Maria Elena had frequented.

For a price, the bartender told him that an American woman had been speaking with a woman known as Maria Elena, but that she did not stay at the bar for a very long period of time. His description of the woman fit Mac and when the bartender mentioned that the young woman had refused many drinks from gentlemen in the bar, it made the ID positive. The bartender told them that the American woman had left alone just a couple of hours before, but the Admiral doubted that Rabb was very far away. They had to be here, in all likelihood, they were at the hotel.

As they were nearing the hotel, they passed an alley and both men were startled by the sound of glass shattering, the street lamp had been broken, darkening the alley considerably. Before they had time to react, the Admiral's face was smashed against a brick wall; he could feel the cool steel, of what he knew was the blade of a knife, at his neck. He heard a voice speaking directly into his ear. "You are in the way, stand down" Feeling the assailant's pressure on the knife at his neck lessen, just slightly, the Admiral saw his opportunity and then the voice continued. "…go home."

Immediately the former SEAL's reflexes kicked in. He disarmed his assailant and had him on his back with his knee in his chest in less than 3 seconds. Between his teeth the Admiral asked him, "Who the hell are you?"

The young man did not answer; he was still struggling to breathe. Another slightly strained voice from across the darkened alley spoke, "Tell him petty officer."

"Petty Officer First Class Michael Brown."

With that both he and Kern knew they had run into some type of Special Forces, or SEAL team. "Well Petty Officer First Class Brown. Let me tell you who I am. My name is Admiral A.J.Chegwidden; I am the Judge Advocate General. Just so we understand each other…" He settled his penetrating gaze on the person that Kern had just pinned to the opposite wall. Even in the semi-darkness, the man knew instinctively that the Admiral wanted his name and rank. "Chief Steven Blevins, sir."

Then the Admiral continued. "I have no intention of getting in anyone's way. I am here to recover my people; they were TAD to the CIA as part of an operation that has since been taken over by another agency."

Both Kern and the Admiral released the two 'assailants' and stood in the shadows of the alley.

The Chief spoke up, "With respect sir, you are walking into an ongoing operation..."

"Chief, I am on my way to Nuevo Hotel Simpatico, where I intend to spend the night. I will be leaving tomorrow morning, the two officers under my command will be accompanying me."

"Sir we are aware of the Americans inside the hotel…our target is expected to encounter…"

The Admiral nodded, "I understand the importance of your mission and your need to acquire your target….alive. You may tell your superiors this, if your 'target' enters the hotel, he will in all likelihood pursue my people, and if he does that, he's mine. Tell them I will not allow my people to be used as bait for your mission or anyone else's." Rabb was not officially one of his people anymore, but he would not allow him to be used or left behind, though he had no intention of telling Rabb that.

He looked at the Chief directly "Is that understood Chief?"

"Yes, sir"

The younger man spoke up, "Sir…If I may ask, were you with SEAL team Three?"

The Admiral gave the young man a direct look and gave him an answering nod.

"You're remembered well, sir. I thought they were kidding when they said the JAG used to be a SEAL." The younger SEAL knew that the older man would not have been able to take him down had he not received the same training he had.

Vice Admiral Kern interjected, "Did any one mention Admiral Richard Kern?"

The young man looked slightly uncomfortable, "Uh…no….sir.

An awkward silence fell for a couple of endless seconds before Admiral Chegwidden broke the silence. "Carry on Chief….Petty Officer.

The two men disappeared down the alley in the opposite direction from the street as Kern and the Admiral walked out of it and toward the hotel. As they walked the Admiral gave his old friend a side long glance. Kern narrowed his eyes and walked a bit more quickly, "Kiss my ass AJ." Both men broke into laughter.

They were still laughing when they reached the hotel, Kern asked if Mr. and Mrs. David Williams were registered there. The man at the desk said they were, but that Mr. Williams had not returned to his room in a number of days. He also told him that he thought Mrs. Williams was cheating on him with another man. Rabb and Mackenzie were there alright.

Kern requested a room in the front of the building. When they were shown the room, the Admiral looked out of one of the two windows. He had a clear view of the street in front of the hotel and the café across the street. Kern checked the other window, which overlooked of the alley. They would be able to see who entered the hotel from either direction. There were only two ways to get into this building and they had a clear view of both of them.

2350

Thursday

May 1, 2003

Ciudad Del Este, Paraguay.

Sadiq Fahd had waited until the streets near the hotel were quiet. He meant to exact his revenge on the two people inhabiting the room registered to Mr. and Mrs. Williams. He seriously doubted that Mr. Williams was still alive, there were no hospitals close enough to treat the injuries he had incurred while he was a 'guest' at his hacienda, as he lay on the table…lying to them. The man who had rescued 'Jane' was with her now, Sadiq remembered again that many of his men were dead at the hands of the man accompanying Mrs. Jane Williams, and it was time for him to pay.

Sadiq stepped into the street and began to cross the road, but just then a van sped around the corner and in front of him. Two men wearing black clothing and masks jumped from the van and grabbed Sadiq and pulled him inside, before he had time to call out to anyone. The sliding door slammed shut as a black cloth bag was placed over his head. The next sound Sadiq Fahd heard were these words, spoken in English with an unmistakably American accent.

"Greetings Mr. Fahd, from the President of the United States."

The van careened around the next corner, whisking the terrorist away to an obscure airfield, where he would be transported, forthwith, to a destination at which many of his 'brothers' now resided.

All that had taken place was observed by Admiral Chegwidden, as he watched from his window.

He chuckled to himself, "The Chief must have told his superiors, they didn't even allow Fahd to enter the building."

"Did they get him?" Kern spoke to him from his 'watch' position at the window overlooking the alley.

"I think so; it looks as though Mr. Fahd is in for a very long trip to a very small cell."

0022

Friday

Hotel Nuevo Simpatico

Ciudad, Del Este, Paraguay

Mac woke with a start; the room was quiet and dark. She felt Harm's arms around her, his deep and even breathing, soft in her ear. She turned over onto her stomach and looked at him. She was still trying to get her mind around what had happened tonight. Harm had said the words, he said that he loved her, even now, it didn't seem real. Reaching over, she caressed his cheek as he slept on, smiling in his sleep, breathing deeply, he rolled to his back, still trying to hold on to her. She allowed him to pull her into his arms and as she nestled under his arm, resting her head on his shoulder, she felt him relax and fall deeper into sleep. Just as she began to drift off to sleep again, there was a pounding at the front door, as though someone were hitting it hard, with their fist.

They were both jolted fully awake, holding on to each other, then quickly letting go, getting to their feet, and at least a bit of clothing along with their weapons. Then there was pounding sound coming from their door again.

In seconds, they were each on one side of the door; Harm opened the door, his gun pointing in the face of the man at the door. The Admiral didn't flinch, he looked at him directly as Harm brought his weapon down, giving Mac a quick and uncomfortable glance. "Admiral…"

He didn't give Harm a chance to continue. "Fahd is in custody, I am leaving early tomorrow morning, if you want a ticket out of here, you had better be in the lobby at 0500 sharp." He started to leave but then paused for a moment, and then turning back toward the door, speaking a little louder, he said. "That goes for you too….Mrs. Williams." The Admiral could only see Harm, who was suddenly aware that he was standing there in his boxers.

"Put some pants on, Rabb." He gave him an irritated glance and walked away from him.

Harm closed the door, to see Mac covering her mouth "Oh God…" She walked back toward the bedroom.

"Don't worry Mac, I'm not in the Navy anymore, no chain of command to worry about."

Mac turned on the small lamp beside their bed and sat down. "Don't even say that." The thought that his career in the Navy was really over, made her physically ill.

"It's true Mac." Harm came to sit beside her on the bed.

"He came all the way down here; he's got tickets for both of us. Maybe he wants you to come back." She looked at him hopefully.

"Mac, I'm not even going to ask. Let's just get back and I'll deal with what ever comes when we get there." He had taken her hand as he sat beside her. He didn't regret coming to Paraguay, but the fact that he really had resigned and the consequences of that resignation were just beginning to come home to him.

"You mean, 'we'll' deal with whatever comes."

"We'll deal with it." Harm reached across her to turn off the lamp, leaning in to kiss her cheek and nuzzle her neck. "Mrs. Williams."

"Oh…now, see how you are?" His mouth on her neck, was already working its magic on her senses.

"Aw Mac…don't you want to see….how I am?"

Harm pushed her back on the bed, wanting and needing her, to laugh and lose himself in her, before any more of the reality of what he had done crept in.

0830

Friday

American Airlines

Flight 227

Somewhere over the Southern Atlantic Ocean.

Harm sat looking out the window, at the clouds that rolled out like a downy white carpet beneath their plane. Mac sat next to the window and had been looking out too. He had been quiet for most of the flight so far, he really hadn't said anything at all, even when they met the Admiral and to her surprise, the former Admiral Kern in the lobby. Harm had followed along, seen, but not heard. He wasn't even making eye contact with Admiral Chegwidden.

It had been an awkward and painful encounter for Mac to observe. She couldn't believe he had resigned….he had given everything up, for her. The thought of it still weighed heavily on her, she was the reason he'd lost everything. He would never admit it, but it was true. How could he not eventually hate her for it?

She might have been totally disconcerted by his quiet behavior, if not for the gentle touches Harm gave her at her arm and back as they got into the taxi and then as they entered the airport.

"Mac?"

The sound of his voice pulled her from her reverie

Mac smiled reaching for his hand, still worrying about what he would do, once they got back to Washington.

He nudged her shoulder with his. "Okay, Mackenzie, what's on your mind?"

"I'm okay."

"We're not starting off this way, talk to me." He kept his voice low, so that only she could hear.

"I'm just….I feel bad, about your resignation." She looked back out the window. "I keep worrying about what you're going to do."

"I'll be okay Mac. I'd do it again, you have to know that." He gently touched her chin, turning her face toward him.

"I do, but I didn't want you to have to do this. I still can't believe you're not going back to JAG with me. I keep thinking….that eventually you're going to hate me." There, she had spoken her fear.

"I have no regrets Mac." She still looked troubled and Harm wanted to reassure her. "Do you remember the Trombatore case?"

Mac frowned not really understanding where he was going with this, but nodded in the affirmative.

"When I was interviewing Mr. Graham, one of the things he said about Beverly Trombatore, that I couldn't forget was, 'If I had only known how little time we had.' It made me think of you, of all the times you risked your life for me, and all the opportunities I had to tell you how much I…how I felt about you. I'm not taking anything for granted anymore, no matter what happens, I'm not going to lose you."

She placed her free hand on his arm, giving him an affectionate squeeze, as he continued.

"That's why I wanted to begin 'this'" Harm held their clasped hands up, just slightly. "Then it seemed that everything at JAG fell apart….but you. Then you accepted this mission and after you left, I thought that all you knew about 'us' was that I wanted to take you to Calisto's and that your kisses were becoming addictive." He couldn't help grinning when he remembered their stolen kisses at JAG and the new addiction he had acquired last night. "I never told you what was behind it all." He waited a beat, seeming to take in all the beautiful features of her face. "I love you. I think I have for a long time."

He continued, "After that nightmare, I believed if I didn't get to you, that something would happen to you and you'd never know what you meant to me."

Harm's words were touching her deeply but they also brought his relationship with Diane back to her mind. "Like Diane?"

"In a way, Diane meant a lot to me Mac, and it hurt that she died not knowing how special she was to me, but it is not the same. You are not a substitute for her or anyone else." He looked deeply into her eyes as he explained; to her surprise and amazement, his heart seemed an open book now.

"Mac, I think if she had never died, if she were alive and living her life, like the rest of us." His eyes suddenly glazed with tears and his voice lowered to a whisper. "I'd have still fallen in love with you anyway."

Harm's simple statement took her breath away. She hooked her free arm into his and rested her chin on his shoulder. Closing her eyes, she felt her own tears begin to start. Trying to regain her composure, she said. "Hey, that's not fair, no making me cry in public."

He turned and kissed her forehead; he slipped his hand out of hers, lifted his arm and placed it around her shoulders, pulling her close to him, totally oblivious to anyone else on the plane. She leaned into him as he shielded her from anyone's prying eyes, resting her head into the strong column of his neck.

Unbeknownst to either of them, the Admiral had been watching them from his seat several rows back. He had reclined his seat and appeared to be sleeping, but he was not.

Their open affection didn't concern him. He had known their relationship was well underway prior to this mission. What concerned him was the weary and haunted look in Mac's eyes. What she had seen and heard would return to her. He knew from his own experience that she needed to deal with it immediately, before it had a chance to damage her and her continued success in her career with the JAG corps. She would need more than the obligatory counseling session recommended after a mission like this.

Kern had been studying them as well. He noticed the tears along with Harm's bandaged head and quiet demeanor. This was not the 'pain in the ass, AJ had described when he spoke of him prior to their trip and in their many conversations about Rabb. He nudged his old friend and said, "The walking wounded."

The Admiral nodded his agreement and returned to his own thoughts.

Pondering Rabb's behavior in the hotel and on the trip to the airport, the Admiral had been surprised that the old Harm didn't surface before they boarded the plane. This was not the cocky aviator lawyer he met when he assumed command of JAG, over 8 years ago, he had been uncharacteristically quiet. Medically, he definitely had to have some type of issue. According to Mac's account of their crash, he had taken quite a blow to his head and had been unconscious for some time. How many more 'hard landings' could Rabb take before he did himself permanent damage? Whether or not he had the discipline to maintain a career in the Navy would be a moot question if he kept this up. Rabb wasn't Peter Pan anymore, he needed to understand that. He knew without Harm saying it that he was just beginning to realize what he had done. The Admiral knew he would want to come back and if the Admiral were honest with himself, he would admit he was conflicted about whether or not he should allow it.

He had always seen Harm as the type of officer who should be JAG; he had the credentials and experience that not many JAG attorneys could boast. He had a genuine feel for how things were in the fleet and he knew the law. His sense of justice was well balanced, though at times, that sense of right and wrong could get him into trouble with the SecNav.

The Admiral smiled as he remembered telling Rabb to 'try out' his chair, that it might be his one day. The problem was, lately in his view; Rabb hadn't been doing the work to get there. He was his best attorney, hands down, but he had gotten too comfortable as JAG's 'fair haired boy.' The Admiral couldn't allow him back if he didn't understand that JAG HQ didn't have a revolving door out front. His tendency to throw his career away and run off on one of his 'quests' had to stop. Had he risked his own career in the past, hell yes he had. Rabb had been a witness, even a partner in that, but it was a different world now, a much more dangerous one, since September 11th.

He could see the back of Rabb's head and he remembered the SecNav's suggestion that he looked on some of his senior staff as family. Maybe he did, in spite of everything; he wanted to see Rabb succeed. He was coming up on 20 years in the Navy, if he wanted to be a 30 year man; he was going to have to change. When the Admiral retired he was sure his new CO wouldn't be as tolerant as he had been with Rabb. The best he could do was try to get his two senior attorneys on their feet before he left JAG. Even if Rabb didn't return to JAG, the Admiral would feel he left a legacy behind, when he retired.

As their plane banked and set its course for the States, though he was still conflicted about what he would do, the Admiral began to drift off to sleep. As he did he thought…'who knows, maybe Rabb and I will go into private practice.' He suddenly opened his eyes; he was wide awake and the thought occurred to him….loud and clear.

'Oh, hell no.'

TBC


	11. Chapter 11

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 11

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters. I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling the story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Anything through 'ATWII' in Season 9. The Season 5 episode 'Cabin Pressure"

A/N: This isn't betaed, any mistakes are mine.

_From chapter 10_

_Friday_

_May 2, 2003_

_American Airlines flight_

_Somewhere over the Southern Atlantic Ocean._

_The Admiral had reclined his seat and appeared to be sleeping, but he was not._

_Harm and Mac's open affection didn't concern him. He had known their relationship was well underway prior to this mission. What concerned him was the weary and haunted look in Mac's eyes. What she had seen and heard would return to her. He knew from his own experience that she needed to deal with it immediately, before it had a chance to damage her and her continued success in her career with the JAG corps. She would need more than the obligatory counseling session recommended after a mission like this._

_Kern had been studying them as well. He noticed the tears along with Harm's bandaged head and quiet demeanor. This was not the 'pain in the ass, AJ had described when he spoke of him prior to their trip and in their many conversations about Rabb. He nudged his old friend and said, "The walking wounded."_

_The Admiral nodded his agreement and returned to his own thoughts._

_Pondering Rabb's behavior in the hotel and on the trip to the airport, the Admiral had been surprised that the old Harm didn't surface before they boarded the plane. This was not the cocky aviator lawyer he met when he assumed command of JAG, over 8 years ago, he had been uncharacteristically quiet. Medically, he definitely had to have some type of issue. According to Mac's account of their crash, he had taken quite a blow to his head and had been unconscious for some time. How many more 'hard landings' could Rabb take before he did himself permanent damage? Whether or not he had the discipline to maintain a career in the Navy would be a moot question if he kept this up. Rabb wasn't Peter Pan anymore, he needed to understand that. He knew without Harm saying it that he was just beginning to realize what he had done. The Admiral knew he would want to come back and if the Admiral were honest with himself, he would admit he was conflicted about whether or not he should allow it._

2315

Friday

May 2, 2003

Ronald Reagan International Airport

Washington DC

Harm and Mac both stood waiting to claim their baggage and Admiral Chegwidden and retired Admiral Kern appeared to be waiting for them near the exit to the parking shuttle. They had not spoken through out the entire 15 hour flight. Harm remained as silent as he had been before they left Paraguay.

After they had both picked up their baggage, they approached the Admiral and his traveling companion.

The Admiral looked at both of them and then centered his attention on Harm. "Rabb, you should know your resignation has been processed. You and I appear to have come to 'a parting of the ways' so to speak. I have been your commanding officer for 9 years, I would prefer not to leave things as they are, but we need to have a discussion about that, among other things, and I don't intend to do that at JAG."

Harm remained silent, looking at him steadily.

"I don't intend to extend this opportunity to you again, if you are interested, I will expect you at my home at 1700, Sunday."

He looked at the Admiral, not quite sure what they had to say to each other now, but respecting him enough to honor his request. He nodded his acquiescence.

The Admiral focused on Mac, "Colonel, be in my office at 0730, Monday morning."

"Yes, sir"

Without another word, he and Kern walked away from them, stepping out of doors and catching the next shuttle out.

Harm watched them for a few moments, still silent.

"What do you think he wants to talk about?" Mac asked finally.

Harm answered quietly. "I don't know." He reached down to pick up his bag. "Do you have your car here?"

"Yeah." He had changed the subject. "I can drop you, if you didn't drive."

Harm was still looking out the exit doors, though the shuttle had already gone. "That'll work." He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "Are you ready?" Mac believed what he had told her on the plane, she knew he didn't regret coming to Paraguay for her, but she also knew him well enough to know that what he had impulsively done, was just now coming home to him.

"Yeah." She picked up her bag.

Harm nodded and they made their way out of the building.

20 minutes later….

As they exited onto the Beltway, from the airport, Harm looked over at Mac, deciding to ask the question he had been pondering for hours. "I know that the last thing you need now is pressure from anyone…."

Harm seemed to be struggling for words, feeling awkward, now that they were home.

"What is it, Harm?"

Harm gently reached for her hand, where it rested on the steering wheel. "Mac, will you stay with me? I'm not assuming anything; I'm not taking anything for granted. I know you're tired, I am too. I just want ….I don't want to let you go, not yet."

Mac shook her head slightly, wondering, 'what could he be thinking?' She glanced at him, smiling. "There is no other place I'd rather be."

She held on to the steering wheel with one hand and enclosed his hand in the other and she saw him return her smile, for the first time since they were leaving Paraguay.

0145

Saturday

May 3, 2003

Kern Residence

Saint Michaels, Maryland

Admiral Chegwidden parked is Ford Excursion in the driveway of the waterfront home, which Kern had inherited from his father. It had been a long drive, and the Admiral had an equally long drive home.

"Why don't you just stay, AJ?"

"Nah, I should get back, besides I wouldn't want to interfere with the homecoming." He winked at Kern.

"Hey, it was a few days, not six months." He waved the Admiral off, chuckling at his excuse.

The Admiral gave his friend a devilish grin, "Getting old, Kern?"

"I'm getting old AJ, just not 'that' old." He got out of the vehicle and closed the passenger door.

AJ laughed with him. "Seriously, I have to get back; I slept on the plane so I'll be fine."

"Okay." Kern raised both hands in surrender.

The Admiral suddenly became serious. "I want to thank you, Rich. I had no idea what I would be walking into down there." He offered him his hand. "I won't forget that you agreed to come with me, without hesitation." Kern had reached through the passenger window and shook his hand.

"Any time AJ, you know that." Kern paused for a moment and then gave him a wry grin. "I'll be here the next time one of your problem children lands themselves in hot water."

"Hey, as long we don't end up in a sewage plant, we'll be alright." Both men laughed at the memory of their unfortunate experience during a mission when they were both still SEALs. While in search of a fuel depot, they came up in a sewage plant, ruining their scuba gear and making themselves fodder for their SEAL team's 'head' jokes for months after.

"You're not really going to let Rabb resign, are you?" If Kern didn't know it before this trip to Paraguay, he knew now, that AJ saw Harm as he would his own son.

"I don't know, I just know things can't go on as they have been, or neither of us will have anything to show for our careers."

Kern nodded, understanding his old friend, and telling himself, in this instance, he was glad to be out of a job with that kind of pressure.

The Admiral was thoughtful for a moment. "To tell you the truth, I'm seriously considering putting in for retirement next spring; I've had a good career, its time I got a life outside the Navy."

"It's a pretty good life AJ. I highly recommend it."

"Whatever happened to your plans to move to France?" The Admiral looked at him curiously.

"My Dad left me this place last year. I wanted to see more of my grandchildren….You should bring Meredith sometime, I did take those cooking lessons."

The Admiral nodded, "I may do that." Before Kern could nail him down to a date, he continued. "I'd better get back."

Kern nodded and just then the light on his front porch came on. Kern's wife stood in the doorway. He turned toward her and then back to AJ. "Hey…Let me know what you decide," He tapped the frame of the window and said, "stay in touch….will ya?"

The Admiral smiled. "Will do."

As the Admiral drove out of the long driveway, when he looked into the rearview mirror, he saw Kern's wife come out to meet him. He wanted that, someone at home waiting for him. He used to think he would have that someday, but more and more, he understood that someday, was right now.

The question was who would he come home to? He still wasn't sure he saw Meredith in that role. He had thought many times of proposing, he did love her after all. Every time he had determined in his own mind to do it, he always pulled back at the last moment. The funny thing was that she always seemed to sense it and when he didn't ask, she seemed as relieved as he was.

He didn't want to retire alone, but knew that he might have to. As he turned out onto the highway, he decided that tomorrow he would have a conversation with his daughter, Francesca. There was no way to get back what he had lost with her, but they had to begin some where and his retirement might just give them both the time they needed.

0230

May 2, 2003

Saturday

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

Mac lay on her side, with Harm lying closely behind her. They were both in a deep sleep. He was resting his arm protectively around her waist, as she rested her head on his other arm and the pillow above it.

Earlier that evening….

They had driven home in near silence, each of them lost in their own thoughts. Harm had held onto her hand, resting it on his thigh, drawing soft circles on the back of it. An action that still gave Mac butterflies in her stomach.

Harm's quiet manner was still a bit bewildering for her, but she didn't want to question him now. She had learned in recent weeks that Harm would tell her what was on his mind in his own time. Mac also understood that everything in Harm's life had turned completely upside down. Harm's resignation was something she still couldn't fathom.

When they had come into his apartment, Harm offered to let Mac take the first shower. He had tossed her a T shirt and told her where the towels were. Harm appeared in the doorway of the bathroom after Mac had showered, just as she slipped the T shirt over her head. Mac had turned to him and smiled.

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. "I'll just be a minute," he told her.

Mac had slipped into bed and lay there listening to the water from the shower. Though Harm was still being very quiet, his presence was so comforting, the tone of his voice and his touch so soothing, that she was glad he asked her to stay. She couldn't believe she was here, in Harm's bed. She snuggled down into the pillows and comforter and taking a deep breath, she stretched and rested her arms above her head. Just as she felt herself begin to relax and drift off to sleep, she felt weight press down on the other side of the bed. She opened her eyes and looked over at him sleepily. He grinned at her indulgently. "Hey…wait for me, sleepyhead."

She lifted her arms and he came into them. As he kissed her lightly on the lips, she teased him, "Hey, it's not my fault if you can't keep up….get in here."

Harm turned her away from him, pulling her snugly into his body and folded her into his arms. Mac rested her head on his bicep, holding onto to his thickly muscled forearm. She kissed the inside of his arm. "Mmmm, this feels nice. I may never let you go."

"I intend to hold you to that; I never want you to." He leaned forward kissing her shoulder.

Mac thought she had never felt so safe in her life. As she began to fall asleep she felt Harm's arm's grow heavy and his breathing deepen. He was sound asleep, and in a matter of seconds, she joined him.

0515

Saturday

May 2, 2003

Harm's Apartment

Mac lay still resting in the protective circle of Harm's arms. As she began to wake her consciousness took a detour into the dark and murky depths to which her nightmares could sometimes pull her…she recognized a voice.

"_**Our path is soaked in blood….and so we write in blood…a language that you can understand…"**_

Sadiq Fahd stood above her; his dark eyes appeared to be black, with barely controlled hatred.

He turned away from her and suddenly she saw him aiming his weapon at the head of the missionary, Karla Robinson. He pulled the trigger, nearly blowing her head off, her blood spattered on the ground and into the face of her husband, as he knelt beside her. The images in her mind seemed to place her much more closely to the situation than she had actually been.

Suddenly she smelled blood, and a metallic scent. Then her nostrils were filled with another scent entirely, it was the dirty mattress on which she and Clayton Webb had slept. It smelled of body odor, urine and the animals that had inhabited the shed before Sadiq had locked them away in it. She covered her mouth and nose, trying to keep the scent away. Now she knew she was sitting in the makeshift prison Sadiq had made, Clayton Webb's bloodied face was before her.

"_**I'll keep them away from you as long as I can…this is all my fault, I'm so sorry Sarah…"**_

She heard her own voice, "Clay….no…." She felt as though she were outside herself, her voice sounded small and far away.

Now Mac heard an engine, her mind took her back to her and Harm, trying to make their escape in the bi plane. She could smell the oil burning and gas, she heard Harm tell her to hang on and she felt the planes nose go up and then quickly down, the green of the trees and the landscape seeming to be rushing up to meet them. Harm called out to her again to hang on as the plane leveled and crashed into the trees below them….Mac began to call out to Harm, he wouldn't answer…Mac could hear her own heart pounding in her ears, her thoughts jumbled…he couldn't be dead…where was he? She turned in her seat and looked behind her. Reaching back she tried to rouse him, he still wouldn't respond.

She frantically freed herself from her seat and climbing out, she turned and shook Harm, his chin was on his chest, his forehead bloody, she tried to find a pulse, and he had none. Panic gripped her and shot through her entire being; he couldn't lose everything because of her. She gripped the collar on of his shirt and tried to lift his head.

"You cant be dead….don't leave me….your life cant be over….not because of me…This cant happen… Harm!"

In her dream, Mac felt someone try to pull her away from him, she fought against the hands trying to hold on, she couldn't leave him, there had to be something she could do….he couldn't be dead.

"Mac!"

Mac was finally jolted awake by the sound of Harm's voice.

"Harm?" Her breath was coming his short gasps; trying to make him more real to her, she reached up to touch his cheek. He was here, she was with him, and it had only been a dream….a terrible, terrible dream.

Mac was sitting up in bed and Harm sat beside her, he brushed her tousled hair from her face. "It's okay…you were just dreaming."

"Yeah….it was just a nightmare…I'm sorry. I guess I'm still getting everything out of my system."

Harm was caressing her arm. "It's okay….Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, it was just a nightmare…" She scrubbed her face with her hands. "I'm a mess; I'm going to get a shower." She was covered with sweat; suddenly it embarrassed her that she had gotten so upset, over a dream.

"I've seen you look a lot worse." Harm waggled his eyebrows.

Mac was already up and walking toward his shower. "I'll take that as a compliment, Sailor."

She had thrown the comment over her shoulder and then the words she had spoken began to sink in. She turned to look back at him again, a pained and guilty expression on her face.

"I'm…..sorry."

Harm's look revealed some pain, but he smiled and winked as he told her, "Even if I don't return to the Navy Mac, I'll be your Sailor."

He got out of bed. "I'll make some coffee." He pulled on a pair of jeans and padded into the kitchen in his bare feet.

Mac turned again and headed into the bathroom, gathering her kit and towels as she went. She glanced back at him as he began making their coffee. The thoughts still tormented her, the thought that his dedication to her had cost him…dearly. Just as it had cost John….and Dalton.

She hoped with all her heart that he and the Admiral could come to some kind of understanding. The nightmare of Paraguay was bad enough, but Harm losing his career was still incomprehensible to her.

TBC

A/N: I'm not sure how many chapters on this yet. I have more to say on this but I'm just not sure how far into the season I want to go. If you'll just bear with me folks, while I try work this out, along with real life too. lol


	12. Chapter 12

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 12

Disclaimers: As previously stated.

Spoilers: Anything through Season 8 and up to Shifting Sands in Season 9. The Season 1 episodes, 'A New Life' and 'The Prisoner' will be referenced. I have changed a few of the details in 'The Prisoner' and will also refer to events in 'Game of Go' and the episode 'Vanished'.

1235

Saturday

May 2, 2003

Chegwidden Residence

Maclean, Virginia

The Admiral stood on his front porch of his home and watched as the former Admiral Tom Boone pulled his black H 2 into his driveway.

The Admiral frowned, folding his arms in front of his chest. He wondered where the hell that had come from. As Tom got out of the vehicle he asked him.

"I picked it up a couple of months ago. It's great in traffic; everybody gets the hell out of my way." He winked and laid his hand on the hood of the vehicle.

The Admiral raised his eyebrows, "Midlife crisis, Tom?"

Admiral Boone had been walking toward the steps when he stopped and looked at the Admiral. "No." He turned then and looked at the Admiral's Ford Excursion, parked in his carport and wondered aloud, "This vehicle is nearly the height and length of a bus and what is this?"

He walked more closely to the Admirals vehicle and read the chrome plated sign bolted to the fender. 'Power stroke turbo diesel…..what are you compensating for, AJ?"

The Admiral laughed out loud, in spite of himself, Boone had him there; there was no way around it. "Touché. Come on, the steaks are almost ready."

After they finished their meal, the two men returned to the front porch of the Admiral's home. "What's this all about AJ? You didn't call me out here to talk about politics at the Pentagon."

"No, I didn't."

"Well, I can't mediate between you and Secretary Sheffield, I don't know him from Adam and from what I've heard, I don't think I want to."

"He's a real political animal all right, I suppose that's what it takes to survive in Washington, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about." The Admiral frowned when a question occurred to him. "How do you know about my conversation with Sheffield?"

"I'm retired AJ, not in Siberia, word gets around. Maybe it's a good thing it's not the old SecNav, he might have tried to bounce you out on your ear for insubordination."

"I think I'm going to get out before any one gets the chance to bounce me out."

Boone turned toward him, "What are you talking about?"

"I'm seriously considering retiring, I haven't decided when just yet, just suffice it to say, at this time next year, I won't be JAG. I don't think I have what it takes to swallow anymore of the crap that seems to make its way to my office anymore. It's as though I've had to compromise every principle I ever learned, especially over the last 6 months, but that's not the main reason I wanted to talk to you."

Admiral Boone knew, "Rabb."

He nodded, "Yes….and if you know about my conversation with the SecNav, then you know that Rabb resigned." The Admiral paused for a moment, and then continued, "I processed it, he's on terminal leave."

"Then that's the end of it…unless, he wants back in."

"He hasn't asked, though I know he'd like to."

"Then what's the problem?"

'The problem is…..he has been under my command at JAG for nearly 9 years. He's an excellent attorney and a good officer. I believed he was someone who could follow me as JAG one day. After his little detour back to the squadron in 99', I thought he was focused enough to get promoted through the chain of command, but obviously, I was mistaken….all those things go away when someone he cares about is in trouble. He walks away from all of it, without a backward look."

Tom listened in silence, leaning against the porch rail.

"If you had someone like that in your command, what would you do? Would you allow him to come back?"

Tom thought for a moment then answered. "I'm not sure I can be objective where Rabb is concerned."

The Admiral raised his brows. He hadn't expected that answer.

"Surprised?" Tom wouldn't mention the years it had taken for him to come to terms with the guilt he felt about Hammer, after he went down over North Vietnam. He had been Harm Senior's wing man and had left him because he was bingo on fuel, it had been just a matter of minutes, but a few minutes had been all it had taken for the Viet Cong to fire off a SAM.

"Yes, I have to say that I am."

"I would agree with your assessment that he is a good officer, I would also agree that he has taken risks that could have cost him his career or his life, and that's not necessarily good JAG material, not in the present political climate" He chuckled, "Maybe I'm getting old but I can't separate the son of my best friend from the equation. His tendency to step out of the box has saved my life more than once. "

"True, but the problem is, almost from the beginning, he's been…" AJ threw his arms up in exasperation. "Chasing ghosts and in doing that compromised his career over and over again."

"We all have our ghosts, AJ. You have them….so do I, but whatever haunts us… it's not the ghosts of our fathers."

AJ raised his eyebrows and nodded his agreement. "That's true, but he can't continue as he is and stand a chance of becoming JAG."

Tom considered his answer, and then continued, "I wonder if becoming JAG is a good thing, for Rabb." He turned and walked down the steps toward his vehicle and wondered what Hammer would think about his son, the sea lawyer.

AJ pondered what Tom said as he followed him. "On the face of it, I suppose it looks as though it might not be, but I believe, if Rabb will get focused, he could bring more to it than anyone else in line for the job. It would be a damn shame to have someone appointed with a fraction of Rabb's experience, not to mention his sense of truth and the law."

"If you feel this way about it, why aren't you staying in the job?" Tom drew his brow down, looking at him curiously.

"I'm beginning to think my time at JAG is nearly over. I want a life; I want a chance to know my daughter, before it's too late. Mostly…. I have less and less patience for the political side of this. I barely recognize myself at times when I'm going along with the SecNav in his high wire act with Congress, the press or whomever. I would like to know that whomever it is that comes after me has the strength of character to balance the politics, with military law."

"I can't disagree with that, I had enough of that side of the world in my short stint as special assistant to the SecNav. Retirement isn't so bad." Tom Boone grinned slyly. "Hell, you could play golf."

AJ scowled at him. "Golf isn't a sport. Baseball is a sport. I've been doing some assistant coaching at the Academy and for some of the PAL leagues around DC. Maybe I'll start coaching full time when I retire."

"Suit yourself." Tom decided that most people, who said they didn't like golf as a sport, couldn't play. "Having trouble hitting that little bal,l Chegwidden?" Tom got into his Hummer, closing the door and putting the passenger window down.

"Never tried it Boone, besides you know what they say about old golfers, don't you?"

Tom started his vehicle and laughed, "Haven't lost 'em yet and uh, when was the last time you hit one out of the park, AJ?"

"Hey, don't worry about it." The Admiral feigned irritation.

Tom Boone drove off, leaving his host laughing at himself. His visit had been a welcome respite from thinking about the hard decisions he had to make. It had also given the Admiral a different insight about Harm, but he was still no closer to making a decision about his senior attorney's resignation.

1745

Saturday

May 2, 2003

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

Harm stood at the kitchen island, as he finished preparing their dinner. He was also stealing glances at Mac from time to time, as she lay sleeping on the couch across the room.

They had gotten out early this morning, gone to Rock Creek Park and tried to get a run in before breakfast. They had cut it short because as they ran, Harm's head began to pound. He slowed and then walked it off. Mac talked him in to waiting until he had more time to recover from the crash before resuming his running schedule.

They went to Mac's apartment to pick up change of clothes and had breakfast out, spending most of the day wondering around the Mall. It was so good to be together, spending a lazy Saturday in the District, walking through museums and looking at monuments, like a couple of tourists on vacation.

As they were walking along together, sometimes Harm would clasp her hand in his, other times she would slip an arm around his waist and he would tuck her in under his arm. They would get in step, gliding along, as though they had done this every day of their lives. Their conversation was light, nothing serious, laughing and teasing as they went. No mention of Mac's nightmare or Harm's resignation was made, it was as though they both made an unspoken pact not to speak of it and just enjoy the day.

Later in the day they returned to Harm's apartment. He had persuaded her to stay with him for another night. She agreed, with the understanding she would stay in her own apartment Sunday night, since he had to meet the Admiral that evening and she had to work the next morning

Mac stretched, looking toward the kitchen to find Harm gazing at her intently.

"What?"

"Nothing." The heat rose up Harm's neck to his face, he was suddenly self-conscious.

"Then why 'the look'" She was grinning at him.

"It's nothing….I'm just, getting used to, 'us'." He looked away from her, almost shyly, embarrassed that she had caught him studying her.

"Different, isn't it?"

He nodded, still not quite meeting her eyes.

Mac sat up and walked over to him, doing what was fast becoming her favorite thing, tucking herself into his arms.

"Like it?" She raised her brows in question.

Harm pulled her more closely to him and nodded his agreement. "Things happened pretty fast though; I planned to wine and dine you." He looked down at her. "Remember what you said? Dinner, dancing….lights down low."

Mac pulled back slightly from his embrace and without a word, kissed him, thinking that time seemed so far away, when in reality, it had only been a few weeks.

Harm continued, "I wanted to do it right, give you everything."

Mac interrupted him, "I don't want everything. I never did. I just want you.

His expression became almost sad, "What do I have to offer you now?"

Mac looked up at him, incredulous. "You can't believe all I love about you is what you do. You're more than that to me, surely you know that by now….don't you?"

Mac's answer drew such strong emotion from him that he couldn't speak for a moment; he swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to joke with her. Pulling her close again, so that she couldn't see his face, he tried to tease her, "I don't know, I used to think you were pretty impressed that I drove a Tomcat and not a Porsche."

She pressed her cheek to his chest, feeling his heart speed up and his breathing quicken. He was trying to get himself under control. He'd been unable to talk about this since they came home and he was still having a hell of a time. She couldn't imagine not being Colonel Sarah Mackenzie, the Marines where the structure that held her life together. The thought that Harm may have lost something she knew was equally important to him was still unthinkable. She had to tease him back or they would both be standing here crying. She squeezed him tightly then playfully tapped his chest.

"I also told you that dress whites were over rated." She turned quickly toward the cabinets, and took down the dishes to set the table.

Harm watched her as she walked to the table and set the dishes on the place mats, she looked at him, smiling mischievously. Harm saw her eyes, glistening with unshed tears; they were going to have to talk about this, he knew that now. "Mac, it's not your fault."

Mac stood frozen, not sure what she should say next. She thought that talking about this would be good for Harm, but she never thought about how painful it might be for her, until he had spoken what she felt aloud. She drew a deep breath, "Harm…I can't stand the thought…that you won't be back, that you won't be in the Navy anymore." Her voice trembled with emotion, "I can't be the reason, I can't be. The Navy has been your whole life, as the Marines have been mine."

"Don't do this, don't take this on. I don't want you to blame yourself for this. You had no way of knowing that any of this would happen. Maybe the Admiral and I can work something out, maybe we wont but that is between us, it has nothing to do with you. You took an assignment, with the Admirals blessing Mac, I'm the one who resigned." He walked over to her and she automatically came into his arms.

"For me." Her voice was choked with tears.

Harm stroked her back. "I'd still do it again, I couldn't just sit up here when I knew you could be killed. The Navy has been my life and I can't deny that I didn't really think about the consequences until we came back, but I also can't deny that I don't want anything, not even the Navy, without you."

Mac was silent, and then she stood back from him, wiping her eyes. "Here I am, thinking I need to help you and I'm standing here crying like a baby." She looked up at him sheepishly.

His voice softened as he spoke, "You still have a lot to get through. The nightmares last night could just be the beginning. Carrying all that guilt is no way to get through this." He kissed her forehead and then reached down to tip her chin up, so that he could look into her eyes

Mac frowned, "So, are you speaking from experience?"

"Maybe."

Mac looked at him curiously, "What experience?"

"It happened before you came to JAG. Come on, lets have dinner and I'll tell you about it." He reached over, still stroking her back to comfort her.

Mac nodded silently and walked to the sink, washing her hands before she helped Harm put everything on the table.

As they sat down, Harm told her, "Just for the record, you are helping me Mac, no matter what happens, it's good to know I'm not alone in this."

She looked at him determinedly, "You never will be."

They finished their dinner and Mac waited for Harm to begin.

"It was the first year Admiral Chegwidden was at JAG Headquarters. My partner Lt. Austin and I were to assist the Consul General's office in Hong Kong in formulating a policy on how to deal with China, should they decide to take the Taiwan Islands, Kinmen and Matzu."

"I was doing some pleasure sailing, getting a little time off, before the negotiations started when I ran across a Chinese military cruiser, my boat was broken up and I was taken prisoner."

"Did the Admiral know?"

"I don't think Krennick even told him, until after it was over. Chegwidden was furious." Harm chuckled, "Maybe that's why she was transferred to San Diego, I don't know." His expression became serious again and he continued.

"The negotiations were very sensitive, our relationship with China then, as now, was very tenuous." Harm eyes seemed to glaze over as he spoke from deep in his own thoughts. "I was interrogated a number of times, when those interrogations proved unsuccessful, they used drugs to try to make me more cooperative. It was imperative for them to know how we would respond, though at that point it hadn't even been decided, there was nothing I could tell them."

Harm looked directly at Mac then, "It was really difficult, after awhile, I couldn't distinguish what was real, and what the drugs had created in my mind."

"I can't believe you didn't tell me this, it must have been terrible." Mac's brow knitted with concern.

"How easy is it for you Mac, though it has only bee a few days, to talk about Paraguay? The sights and the sounds you heard?" He looked at her knowingly.

Mac looked away. "It's not."

He continued. "Between the drugs and the lies, they convinced me that my father was in the cell below me."

"Harm" Mac placed her hand over his, of all the things they could have done, using his father had to be the worst thing.

"It took weeks to get the sound of the voice I heard out of my head, to convince myself that everything had been drug induced, it couldn't have been my father's voice. But still, there were things he told me… like the name of the commandant of the prison at the time, convinced me that my father might have been imprisoned there."

Mac watched as Harm gazed toward the window, as though he were looking at something far away. "Colonel Chee, I escaped with Chee's help and that of a police officer, contacted by Krennick….for a price. I thought the Colonel's name was Haan, because that is what my father called him, but when I called him by that name; Chee told Haan had been his predecessor."

Harm continued speaking, the memory taking him back to that time.

"I saw the initials in the cell below me, as I tried to escape….There was no way I was going to leave him behind. The same initials, just the way we had carved our initials into a roller coaster at an amusement park on Mission Avenue….H 2 squared."

Mac was quiet for a moment, and then tried to reassure him.

"Harm you know that if they were observing you, they might have heard you speak of it."

Harm refocused on her again and nodded his agreement. "I know, the only thing I couldn't get around, was the name…Colonel Haan." The same sorrowful look that Harm always had when he spoke of his father was still evident on his face.

He had gotten off of his point. "What I'm trying to say is…I do know what it means, to have the possibility of your freedom taken away, to be closed away, beaten down psychologically. I understand what it can do; I don't want you to take everything that happened over the last two weeks on yourself. There were more things going on than another of Webb's missions going south. Things that you had no control over….do you understand?"

"I do understand….with my head, I know youre right. What I'm feeling now is probably textbook for any psychologist. Nightmares, guilt…everything, but it doesn't make it any easier." She stroked his arm, trying to comfort herself as well as Harm.

"Maybe you should talk to someone, Mac."

Mac looked at him, asking him a question she already knew the answer to. "Did you?"

"No, not outside of the obligatory counseling session that cleared me to return to duty…but maybe I should have. Things might have been a lot different for me…and maybe even for us." He raised his brows, hoping he was making his point.

"You don't like talking about things like that anymore than I do."

"No…I don't, but I'd be willing to try it, if it meant that we'd be okay…that you'd be okay."

"Harm I don't want to rehash the past, I don't want to do that with you…I don't want to do that with anyone. I'm tired of all of it….I just want to be happy, with you." They had waited so long, she wanted to push all the pain away and get on with her life.

Changing the subject, Mac pushed away from the table. "Let me clear this and clean up, it was a great meal. It's time I did something for you."

"Okay, I'll just grab a shower." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek quickly, he wouldn't push the subject anymore…tonight. But they had been through too much to let something like this ruin what they had, finally, begun.

Mac cleared away everything and loaded the dishwasher. She was thinking about what Harm had said, her heart breaking for him all over again when she thought of how his captors had hit him in his most vulnerable spot, the loss of his father.

As she worked her thoughts took her in another direction, seemingly from nowhere, the voice of Sadiq Fahd penetrated her thoughts. "You defile motherhood." He had spoken to her as though she were a whore, just because she didn't know 'her place' as Sadiq saw it. His attitude toward her echoed so many insults she had heard in her life from a very early age. Her father, her ex husband Chris….Dalton who in the beginning made her believe he saw her as an equal, only to find that when she followed him to private practice, he treated her like a law clerk. It had only been a seduction, pure and simple.

There were times when she even believed Harm saw her that way. Those thoughts never took root in her mind because she knew Harm saw her as his best friend. She did have those fleeting moments though, when she would allow her subconscious mind to beat her up, she would tell herself Harm didn't want a romantic relationship, because of what he knew of her past.

Mac stopped what she was doing, shaking her head. **_She had made her choices_**; there was nothing she could do about them now. She knew she had to stop this.**_ If she kept chasing her past, her future was going to walk right out the door_**. Her future was here, with Harm, he said he loved her and that was all that mattered. Closing the dishwasher, she started it and walked around the counter.

As she began to ascend the steps into Harm's bedroom, she was met with the vision of him lying in his bed, the blankets and sheet low on his sculpted abdomen, with his strong and well defined arms up and hands folded behind his head, just waiting for her.

Mac grinned at him mischievously, "It's a little early, isn't it?" She glanced at the alarm clock on his bedside, which read 7:55.

"Is it?" He raised his brows, feigning innocence.

She walked around the edge of the bed toward the bathroom. He sat up pulling a pillow up behind his back. He looked so young suddenly, and so expectant that it almost broke her heart. She loved him so much.

"**_Are you sure about that?"_** The timbre of his voice told her that he wasn't quite thinking about sleeping at that moment.

"I'll just be a minute"

After Mac had showered, she changed into a pair of pajamas that she brought from her apartment. She thought of bringing something sexy, but somehow, she didn't want to do that right now. Wanting to bring something besides her Marine Corps T shirt and shorts, she chose a pair of yellow short pajamas. She didn't like frilly things, but these were definitely feminine, in a way Harm hadn't seen her before.

She stepped around the glass blocked shower wall and into the bedroom. Harm automatically turned his head toward her, taking her in from head to toe. Her dark skin against the soft yellow cotton material, the peek at her midriff showing off her taut muscles topped with the voluptuous curves of her breasts beneath her pajama top.

"Hi." His voice soft and husky.

"Hello."

Harm scooted away from his side of the bed and invited her in, allowing her a better look at a bodym the sight of whichwas making the blood hum in her veins. Mac slipped into bed beside him and he turned toward her.

She was so beautiful; he reached to brush her hair back from her face and kissed her. He caressed her face, brushing the pad of his thumb over her cheekbone. He knew she was still having a difficult time and he told her so.

"I'm going to be alright Harm. I'm exactly where I want to be." She placed her hand over his.

He leaned in and kissed her again, this time deepening the kiss. What began as comfort changed to something much more passionate, much wilder and desperate, somehow. It was as though they were both driving their demons away. They both had their own personal demons for a long time. In the past when they fought their demons, they fought each other.

This time, they opened their arms and loved each other and for the moment they succeeded in sending those demons into oblivion.

TBC

A/N: I have to apologize again for taking so long with this chapter. I know I've been talking about this 'meeting' between Harm and the Admiral, and its going to happen. I just need to have them both address a few issues before they get there. (Grin)

The saying about golfers is: 'Old golfers never die; they just lose their balls'


	13. Chapter 13

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 13

Disclaimers: I don't own any of the JAG characters; I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode through Season 8 and up to 'A Tangled Webb II' in Season 9. The Season One episode 'Smoked' will be referred to.

_Reputation is what men and women think of us. Character is what God and the angels **know** of us._

_Thomas Paine_

1620

Sunday

May 8, 2003

Chegwidden residence

The Admiral replaced the handset on the phone as he stood in the small office, off of the den in his home. The last piece of the plan he formulated for Rabb was in place. Much would depend on whether he chose to use his head and not allow his pride to ruin his career. He was sure he had done everything he could; it was up to Rabb now.

Harm arrived promptly at 1630. He was invited inside and followed Admiral Chegwidden to his den. Before he was seated, the Admiral turned to him and began without preamble.

"Let's get to it. At this stage of the game, I don't feel like small talk."

Harm stopped short, not sure of what to expect.

"Do you want to come back to JAG because you want to do the job, or because you don't have anywhere else to go?"

"What?" Harm was taken aback by his bluntness.

"You heard me. Answer the question." The Admiral was in no mood to mince words.

"How do you know I want to come back?" With audaciousness he would never be able to explain, Harm returned the Admirals question, with another question.

The Admiral looked hard at him, as though he had just about enough of him.

Harm immediately saw that his challenge was ill timed and before the Admiral had a chance to throw him out the door, he answered, "I want to do the job."

AJ quietly considered his answer, the tension still thick in the air. "This will require me to have a conversation with the SecNav and I don't like having conversations with the SecNav, do you understand Rabb?"

Harm knew there couldn't be any love lost between them since the revelations about the SecNav former assistant, Lindsey, not to mention his use of Commander Manetti. He nodded the affirmative.

The Admiral began,

"I will meet with the SecNav Friday to request that you be reinstated. However, this will be contingent upon two things. One, I expect you to report to Bethesda for a full physical and work up."

He nodded toward the still healing cut on Harm's forehead. "I want that blow to your head assessed, and I don't want you to tell them you had a bump on the head. You had to have been unconscious for at least a half an hour and it better be reported as a part of your assessment. The flight surgeon, Captain Dan Morrison, is aware that I want a full report on your condition on my desk by 1200 hours Wednesday. Two, you will report to Captain Oliver Miles Wednesday afternoon. He will perform a complete psychological examination and after provide counseling services, if they are required, for as long as he deems necessary. He is already aware that I also expect a full report from him before 1200 Thursday."

"Sir, I don't think I ne...

"I don't recall asking you what you think you need. There are no choices here, if you come back, you will do this. If… you come back…Mr. Rabb, you will be the most squared away sailor in the fleet. There will be no question as to your goals or your focus. You will no longer be known as the 'loose cannon' at JAG. You have the potential to become JAG one day… if you do as I tell you. I have put much of the last 9 years of my life into shaping my staff to function better than any other at JAG Headquarters before us. I'll be damned if I will allow anyone to do any less when I leave."

"When you leave, sir?" This was news to him.

"That is no concern of yours, now…if at anytime I see that you are not equal to these tasks" He walked up to him and looked him directly in the eye. "What will I do, Mr. Rabb?"

"You'll drop me in your wake…..faster than your garbage…..sir."

It took all of the self control that the Admiral possessed, to keep the smile from his face as Harm repeated the words he said to him, upon their first meeting. Maybe he had gotten something through that thick skull of his, after all.

Admiral Chegwidden nodded toward an overstuffed leather chair sitting to one side of his fireplace. "Have a seat."

Harm gave him a questioning look, but sat down as the Admiral's expression grew more stern.

He began to walk slowly, back and forth, in front of the fireplace and as he did, he began,

"Now Mr. Rabb, we're about talk about something personal. As you know, I don't like personal discussions and I don't expect to have another any time soon, are we clear?

"Yes sir."

"Good, we understand each other. I'll get to the point, and put this as plainly as I can….From your first weeks at JAG, I would say, almost from the very beginning, your father's shadow has been cast over everything you've done. While that has been positive in many ways, in others, its nearly destroyed your career and damn near cost you your life."

Harm looked at him steadily, not quite sure where he was going with this.

"Your father was a good man and a good officer, he was shot down over Vietnam; he was taken to Russia as a POW, officially unacknowledged by that government and his own. An injustice was done. You are not responsible for it and you cannot undo it."

Harm visibly blanched, the accuracy of the Admirals remarks stung him, he continued,

"This issue has to be put to rest, you have to do it, to move on and get a life of your own."

Harm could not meet his gaze; this was all hitting him too close to home, when the Admiral has said 'personal' he wasn't kidding.

The Admiral gave Harm a few minutes, hoping that what he was saying was being heard for what it was. True concern and a last ditch attempt at helping him salvage his career.

"I don't know where your focus has been over the past 6 months, Rabb, but to say you haven't been making good decisions lately would be an understatement."

Harm still wasn't looking at the Admiral; but he smiled wryly and shook his head, knowing he couldn't argue with that.

"You didn't tell anyone about the issues with Singer and Sergei, did you? You certainly didn't come to me; it appears you didn't trust anyone, not even the Colonel."

"Not until a few days before…and I didn't tell her everything, I was trying to protect Sergei, I didn't want anything to keep him from becoming an American citizen, the murder charge would have ruined any chance we had of proving he was…."

The Admiral finished his sentence. "Your brother….It still comes back to your father Harm, put it to rest; I can't believe your father wouldn't want you to do that."

He looked up at him sharply, suddenly angry that anyone, even the Admiral, would speak for his father. "I've had no choice but to put it to rest, that choice was taken away, long before I came to JAG."

"If that were true, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He'd been watching Harm chase his father's ghost for over 9 years, there was no way he would allow him to gloss over all that had happened during that time.

Embarrassed and still angry, Harm stood quickly and started to walk across the room, wanting to put some space between them. He lost his balance but recovered it quickly.

"You need to report to Bethesda tomorrow, first thing." The Admiral decided that he would change the subject from the personal to the practical medical issues, he had made his point, though it was painful, it had to be made.

Harm turned back toward him, relieved to be talking about something, anything else. "I will sir, I'm fine, but I will"

Satisfied the Admiral nodded.

Both men stood facing each other, though they were across the room from each other. For Harm, this was as uncomfortable as hell, but uncomfortable or not, he was smart enough to know what the Admiral must have had to do to get them out of Paraguay. The Admiral was still as hard to read as ever. He was standing here, offering him more than an olive branch and Harm knew it, but he was still looking at him as though he'd like to deck him. He didn't even want to think about what he'd have to promise the SecNav to get him back in the Navy, and JAG. Harm had hoped, but was afraid to believe, that he would actually get his career back.

"Now, there is another subject that we have to address, another subject I don't want to have to discuss again. It appears that you and Colonel Mackenzie have begun seeing each other…so be it. However, do not bring it into the office or make it an issue with any of the staff at JAG. If this becomes serious enough that marriage is being contemplated, I expect to be notified in time to adjust staffing so that the integrity of my office is not compromised. Can you handle that Mr. Rabb?'

"Yes…sir" It felt good to address him this way. This was the Admiral Chegwidden he met all those years ago. Harm recognized the no nonsense and ambitious SEAL that became JAG. He also saw the commanding officer who had pulled his six out of the fire more times than he cared to remember. And, in this situation, he was doing it again.

"Then we're done here."

Harm nodded and just that quickly the conversation was over. In moments, Harm was on his way back to Washington and Admiral Chegwidden was beginning another task that he dreaded, but could not put off for another day.

Later that evening…

1930

Vietnam Veterans Memorial

Washington D.C.

Harm stood in front of the familiar section of the Wall, one that he could have found blindfolded, because he'd been there so frequently. His eyes focused on his fathers name as the Admirals words came back to him.**_ 'Your father's shadow has been cast over everything you've done.' _**Harm reached out and flattened his thumb on the letters and slowly ran it across them, as he had so many times before. It was the only thing he could touch, that made his father real to him.

The Admiral's words made him realize that he was still looking for that tangible evidence of his father's existence, after everyone else had given up, his mother, the Navy, everyone. He was still trying to prove that he didn't die in Vietnam. It was as though every milestone of his life directed him to that goal; from the summer he ran away to find him, to the Academy, to flight school. Then he had continued with his willingness to risk everything, to follow any lead to prove that his father was alive, from Vietnam to Washington to Russia. Sergei was proof of so many things…an injustice; the Admiral had called it an injustice. It was that, and bringing Sergei here, proving that he was his father's son, truly had been his way of righting a great wrong.

Harm sat down on one of benches scattered along the path that ran the length of the Wall. He had spent more than one afternoon doing just this, watching as groups of people crossed the street from the Lincoln Memorial and then walked to the path. It always amazed him how quiet and solemn they became. People could be laughing and talking and then as they walked further down the path, their voices would become hushed, until most people stopped speaking at all.

Harm leaned back, resting his arm on the back of the bench. He stayed for over an hour, deep in thought and watching people as they passed by the names etched on the wall of black granite. It was strangely comforting, to witness a person stopping at the name of a friend or family member and reaching to touch it, or trace it on paper with a pencil. To Harm, it was a testament that another man who answered his country's call had not been forgotten. He watched as other people repeated the same ritual as he had over the years, coming back to their own personal touchstone.

At that same moment…

The Admiral had invited Meredith to dinner; it was time they talked about where their relationship was going, though he had never liked, 'relationship talks'. He cared for Meredith a great deal, but not enough to plan a future with her after he retired. It wasn't fair to allow her to think otherwise. In all the hours of contemplation he'd had since he had returned from Paraguay, he made a decision, he was cleaning house, professionally and personally, a task that was long overdue. He wasn't sure how Meredith would react to what he had to say, but as usual, she surprised him. It had been a welcome surprise; he found that he hadn't given her the credit that she deserved.

Meredith Cavanaugh stood on the Admirals front porch. AJ stood in front of her, and she slipped her hand into his. She leaned up to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

"I'm sorry AJ."

"It's not your fault"

Meredith smiled at him confidently, "I know it isn't. I suppose I'm sorry that we didn't have a future together, but I, like you, have known that for some time."

Her statement made them both chuckle, Meredith was never at a loss for words, that had been true from the moment he met her.

"Seriously, AJ, I think we are at a place in our relationship where we would either become more serious or we would decide to move on. I think without knowing it, we've both chosen the latter."

The Admiral nodded, silently agreeing.

"It's been wonderful AJ." Her eyes were sparkling with the confidence that had attracted him to her in the first place.

"It has" He looked at her directly, hoping that she understood that he meant it.

"I wouldn't change a thing."

The Admiral walked with her down his front steps, "I wouldn't either."

Then as the Admiral closed her car door, after helping her inside, he suddenly remembered a ride he had taken with Meredith in a very small, very fast sports car. Then he immediately recalled a backrub that went horribly awry…

On second thought, he might change a few things.

2130

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

Harm had only been home a few moments when he decided to call Sergei, realizing as he punched the numbers on his cell that Sergei had become touchstone, as well. He sat in his apartment now, waiting for him to answer his cell phone, finally, he picked up.

"Hello… Sergei?"

"Brother. Are you well?"

"Yes, I am…just calling…to see how you're doing"

"Good, I am good."

"Am I still your best man?"

"Yes, yes, we look forward to seeing you here. You will come in August…Yes?"

"I'll be there."

There was silence on the line for a moment while Sergei screwed up the courage to ask about Lauren Singer. He had not heard from his brother since he learned that she had been murdered.

"Brother…what happened…about Lauren?"

'It's a long story Sergei, its not important."

"Are you protecting again?"

Harm chuckled, knowing that was exactly what he was doing. "Yes, I guess I am."

"Tell me Harm please, what happened?"

Harm explained most of what had happened, about the fact that Lauren's baby was not Sergei's, just as he had told him. He did not say that he spent time in the brig; he just couldn't bring himself to say it. He did tell Sergei that they suspected him but that he was cleared when Lauren's killer was found.

Harm didn't want to think about being in the brig, though he was found innocent, the shame of it was still with him. They would talk about it someday, Harm hoped, over a beer with their grandchildren playing at their feet.

Besides, it didn't matter anymore, Lauren was dead and her murderer was in Leavenworth, and that was all there was to it.

After he ended the call, he sat back in his chair, listening to the quiet of his apartment. He looked around the room and it struck him how empty it seemed without Mac. They hadn't been apart at all since he found her at Sadiq's compound in Paraguay. He felt an overwhelming impulse to grab his keys and get to Mac as fast as he could. She'd said she had a lot to do, but Harm knew she was giving him some space too. Neither of them knew what to expect when he met with Admiral Chegwidden.

He stood and walked around the room, glancing out the window and down at his SUV parked in front of his apartment. As he walked back toward his bedroom he had already begun to calculate how long it would take to get to Georgetown, he glanced over his shoulder at his keys, on the key ring near his door.

He spoke his thoughts aloud, "to hell with it….I'm going."

1000

Mac's apartment

Georgetown

Mac began to pace inside her apartment, it was exactly 1000, surely Harm was finished talking with the Admiral by now.

She looked out her front window, looking for Harm's SUV. She knew he wouldn't come tonight. She'd made it clear she didn't want him to….but now, she just wanted to talk to him for a moment. She hated being away from him, they had been together every day and night, since he rescued she and Webb from Sadiq's compound in Paraguay, now it seemed unnatural not to be with him.

Mac walked away from the window and into the kitchen. She had already cleaned everything, the counters sparkled, everything was in place, and everything was ready for her work day to begin tomorrow. This was so frustrating, 'Damn it,' she thought, 'why couldn't he just call?'

As she walked back out into her living room, she was just beginning to fume. 'The least he could do is call,' she thought. 'He knows how worried I am about this.' Then a tiny voice inside her asked… 'Doesn't he miss me?'

Mac tried to shake off all the doubts, this was ridiculous, he'd saved her life, and he told her he loved her. She didn't know what she was thinking tonight. Then another thought came, unbidden. She did know what she was thinking; she just wanted him….here, with her. Her need to be with him, to be able sense his physical presence was overwhelming. She had known she loved him for some time, but needing him this way was something new entirely.

Startled from her thoughts by a sharp knock on the door, she turned toward it. Aloud, she whispered the name of the man she hoped was on the other side of it.

She nearly ran to the door and quickly looking through the security lens she breathed, "Thank you," to God, to the Fates, to whoever was listening.

As she opened the door, Harm began talking, hoping she wouldn't be angry with him for not being able to stay away tonight. "Mac, I know we said we'd talk tomorrow, but…"

Mac reached for his shirt and pulled a happily surprised Harm into the apartment. "I'm so glad you're here." She flung herself into his arms. "Where have you been?" She kissed him before he had a chance to answer her.

After he pulled back from her kiss, he laughed; relieved they had both been thinking the same thing. "Glad to be here…did you miss me, Marine?"

He kissed more deeply, pulling her close. There it was... that comfort of having her near him, their connection and attraction immediate. Just as Harm started to walk her backward toward her couch, Mac broke the kiss and asked him, "Did he ask you to come back?"

He still held her close, "not in so many words."

Mac drew back from him. "What?"

"He asked me why I wanted to come back."

Mac was getting frustrated with him; this was no time to be cryptic. "Harm, are you going to come back to JAG or not?"

"I think so, contingent on two things; the Admiral is going to talk to the SecNav Friday."

"Go on." Mac had slipped out of his arms and stood in front of him.

"He wants me to go to Bethesda, get a physical," Harm pointed toward his head. "MRI, CT, everything, and he talked with someone in the psych dept. there, so it looks like at least one of us will have to see a shrink."

"You are going to do it, aren't you?"

"I'll do it. He made it pretty clear that if I don't, I won't be back, period."

"Harm I know you hate this, I'd hate it too, but please cooperate, humor them, do what ever you have to. I want you to come back to JAG."

'I will Mac. I want to come back." The worry lines on his forehead softened and he pulled her more closely to him again.

"Did you talk about anything else?"

"Nothing important, we can talk about it later." He leaned down and kissed her neck. He didn't want to talk about what the Admiral had said about his father, it was painful enough to hear the first time, though what he'd said was probably true. Besides, being here, like this with Mac was making it all go away, no one had ever been able to do that for him and as he had told her before, there was no way around it. Sarah Mackenzie was addictive.

Mac knew there had to be more but she was so happy that there was a way for Harm to return to JAG, she wasn't going to press the question. She put her arms around him, sighing heavily, "This feels so good."

"Hmm, I can't argue with that." His hands skimming down her back, kissing her temple and nuzzling her ear.

Mac snuggled further into his arms as she allowed him to walk her backward toward the couch. Then she remembered that she had her own meeting with Admiral Chegwidden tomorrow. She pulled him down to sit on the couch beside her.

"Did he say anything about us?" She looked at him warily, knowing that this might not be the best time, but given where she knew they were both going, they might not get a chance to talk about it again, before she had to meet with the Admiral in the morning.

Harm gave her an indulgent look; he knew she was worried about this too. He rested his arm on the couch behind her and leaned in to brush a kiss on her cheek.

"He said that as long as we keep everything out of the office he doesn't have problem with it." That's it Rabb, keep it short and sweet and keep her on task, he thought as he kissed his way back down to what he had learned was the most sensitive spot on her neck.

"That's great." She was beginning to slur her words; it amazed her how quickly he could get under her skin. There was something else, she could bet on it. It took all her control to step back and ask him while she could still think.

"And?" Mac arched one eyebrow, waiting.

Undeterred, Harm answered her as he traced his fingers down her arm. "He, uh…said that…if we decide," He looked up into her eyes now, "if we decided to make our relationship permanent, he wants plenty of notice. You know, so that JAG isn't compromised."

"That's reasonable." She was trying to read him how he felt about that proposition, but he was definitely on a mission that had nothing whatsoever to do with talking.

"Don't panic Harmon; I'm not demanding that you make a decent woman out of me." She was only half teasing him.

"I wasn't thinking that." He looked at her, suddenly indignant.

Mac only smiled at him and slipped deeper into his arms. "Okay…whatever you say."

"Mac…we've got a lot going on now. You know that." He pulled her back from him, trying to get her to look at him. "I just know that I want to be here, with you." His words finally caught her full attention. "I love you."

"Me too," Mac giggled in spite of herself and she felt Harm slip his hand under the hem of her t shirt. As he flattened his palm and skimmed up her back, she pulled him to her and whispered a question into his ear. "What are we going to do, Harm? I can barely stand to spend a night without you?"

He rested his forehead lightly against hers, grinning as he released the hook of her bra. "Doesn't sound like a problem to me."

He kissed her again, his mind and body focusing completely on her. He didn't think he'd ever get enough of this, and with any luck, he'd never have to worry about it. The Fates could keep them together, forever.

0030

Monday

May 9, 2003

Chegwidden Residence

MacLean, Virginia

Admiral Chegwidden sat in the overstuffed leather chair, leaning forward, holding the phone to his ear as he listened to his daughter speak. He had been trying to reach her all weekend. She had returned his call just a few minutes before.

"What is it Papa?" Francesca's voice was filled with concern.

"Does there have to be a reason to speak with my own daughter?"

Francesca waited a beat and then answered, "No, but you must admit, it is not common for you."

"I'd like to change that."

"Papa…" This was a familiar conversation.

"I want to know you better."

"You have tried Papa, your job is your life, it takes you away. There is no time for family."

"Something else I intend to change."

"Will you be leaving your Navy?" Francesca spoke as though she knew the answer to that question.

"I'm strongly considering retiring. I think its time."

"If this is what you want, I am happy for you Papa, but….."

The Admiral listened to silence on the telephone line then pressed her to finish her sentence. "But…"

He heard his daughter heave a sigh. "But, I don't want you to treat me like a….devo...you owe… you call it…debt. I want to see you Papa, to know you better…as you say, but please do not act as if your time…your love… is a debt you must pay me. If my life as taught me nothing, I know I do not want this."

The Admiral awed into silence by the truth of what his daughter had just said.

"Papa? Are you there?"

"Yes, I'm still here." He hesitated to broach the subject on the telephone, but the door was open and she seemed ready to talk. He had no idea when he would have this opportunity again.

"Would you mind…telling me when you first felt that I treated you that way? I swear to you Francesca, I never felt that way, ever."

"Papa…"

"Francesca, please..."

She waited a moment and then she began, "This feeling did not begin with you. In my memory, it began with my stepfather, though he was a good father, I was not his daughter. You know that in my country, blood means everything and I was your daughter, a reminder of the love of my mother's life. I was a debt…an obligation, no more."

The Admiral closed his eyes tightly, knowing his daughter spoke the truth of his life as well. Hearing her say it, somehow made it more painful to him.

"Do not misunderstand, my mother cared for and respected her husband. She was an obedient wife, and I respect her for this, but we did not agree about marriage. My mother says I am too passionate and independent. She says this, I get from you."

The Admiral smirked when he remembered that Marcella could be passionately angry, he had the scars to prove it. Their passionate love for each other had produced Francesca and for that he would be forever grateful. Other women had passed through his life since then, but he could never love anyone the way he loved her. He told himself it was because he had been young and that the passage of time had allowed him to forget the more difficult things in their relationship, but he knew, deep down, that it wasn't true. He would love Marcella until the day he died.

"I'll have to plead the 5th on that one."

"Plead the 5th?"

"Sorry, I'm not using the phrase properly, but it's a term used by defendants in court cases, meaning that a person can refuse to answer a question on the grounds that it might incriminate them."

"So you admit you are too passionate, Papa?"

"No, I said I was pleading the 5th…about your stepfather?" The Admiral returned to the original topic of discussion.

Francesca continued… "I think you understand the meaning of what I was saying, and with you Papa, so guilty, so careful in the few times I saw you, in my childhood. I wanted the man my mother described, the father who was strong, independent and fearless."

"If you will give me the chance, I will show you that you are no debt, Francesca."

"No, no…I'm going to challenge you. Come here, come and stay in Naples for a time, for a time with no duty to be performed, a time for your family. I have someone I want you to meet. If you want to know me better, you must know him also."

'It will take months after I submit my retirement for it to go through. Let me look at my schedule and I'll get back with…."

"No, Papa. I don't want you to get back with me…as you say. If you truly mean what you say, you will come. If you do not, I have my answer."

"Francesca…"

"Goodbye, Papa."

Francesca replaced the handset in the receiver and turned to look at the 10 month old baby boy sitting on a blanket on the floor, surrounded by his toys. He was the image of his grandfather, from the brown eyes, to the rounded head with very little hair visible. He sat watching her, with what appeared to be an intense interest. Then, as though the little boy knew the possibilities of the conversation that his mother just had, he laughed and clapped his hands.

TBC

A/N: Yes, I know I took a different turn here with Meredith and AJ, but I hated that she was turned into a faithless…you know what, on the show.

A/N: I have 14 nearly complete and will do my best to post tomorrow or Tuesday at the latest. I think RL has cut me a little slack….I sure hope so.


	14. Chapter 14

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 14

Disclaimers: As previously stated

Spoilers: Anything up to and including A Tangled Webb II in season 9. 'Dog Robber II' from Season 7 will be referred to.

A/N: Definitions at the bottom of the page.

_God Preserve the United States._

_We know the Race is not to the Swift_

_nor the Battle to the Strong._

_**Do you not think an Angel rides in the whirlwind**_

**_and directs this Storm?_**

_John Page to Thomas Jefferson on the signing of the Declaration of Independence._

0630

Monday

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, VA

Admiral Chegwidden sat at his desk looking at the computer screen. He had only slept a few hours last night, his mind still occupied with what had to be done in the next few days. He had even surprised himself with all that he had been able to accomplish over the weekend. It was as though he had taken his life into his own hands again and it filled him with an energy he hadn't had, in some time.

He had been doing some research to prepare for this meeting, at home and here in his office, since he had returned from Paraguay. Just now he was perusing a Department of Veterans Affairs website about PTSD and women in the military. He was amused that the fact sheet actually stated that Shakespeare's Henry the IV would have met the criteria for PTSD. Meredith would have gotten a kick out of that. Shakespeare aside, he knew that the disorder was as old the concept of the military itself, it had just been called by a different name.

Tackling this issue with Mac today was not going to be an easy task. Mac, in her own way, was as difficult to convince that she needed help as Rabb was. On the surface he was sure Mac wouldn't give any indication of the horror she had witnessed over the past week. If he were to accomplish what he intended, Mac would have to cooperate. He wasn't going to wait until the worst of symptoms presented themselves. Reviewing the information over the last few days, left him thinking that Mac could be a poster girl for the disorder. _History of child abuse, substance abuse, previous traumatic situations…._ He read _'...one cannot make a PTSD diagnosis unless the patient has actually met the 'stressor criterion.' _Mac's years of experience in the Marines and her understanding of combat situations would work in her favor. Though the total percentages of women who were diagnosed with this disorder were small, he knew he would be lax in his duty if he didn't address the possibilities, proactively.

His eyes came to rest on one of the diagnostic criterion posted on the site, the words_ 'psychic numbing' _jumped out at him._ '…an emotional anesthesia that makes it extremely difficult for people with PTSD to participate in meaningful interpersonal relationships.'_

It occurred to him at that moment, that he met that criterion, if the state of his personal life was any indication. Just then, in his peripheral vision, he saw Mac through the open blinds of his office, as she walked across the still empty bullpen.

A few moments later, she was in his office and seated in front of his desk.

"How are you Colonel?" The Admiral sat behind his desk and folded his hands in front of him.

"I'm fine sir."

"Good, good, there are some things need to be discussed in order to…make your transition from the situation in Paraguay, back to your job here as my Chief of Staff run smoothly."

"Sir?"

"Given what you experienced in Paraguay…."

"But I'm fine, sir." She quickly and uncharacteristically interrupted him.

The Admiral gave her a stern look. "Colonel."

"I'm sorry sir" She looked down at her hands, not realizing until then that she had one clenched tightly inside the other.

He hadn't missed her body language. His instincts had been correct; she was having a difficult time. The Admiral changed his tone of voice and began again.

"Mac, I have witnessed your courage, dedication to duty and I have no doubt as to your ability to fulfill your duties here at JAG."

With that statement, the tension level in the room dropped considerably. "Thank you, sir."

"Don't relax yet Colonel; you may not appreciate the rest of what I have to say."

Mac waited.

The Admiral stood and walked over to his window. "You asked me once whether I thought there would ever be a female SEAL's in the future, do you remember?"

"Yes sir, as I recall, it was a short, but frank discussion." Mac smiled at the memory, it was one of many occasions when the Admiral ended a short and very blunt statement. I believe your answer was..."No, I don't."

He turned back toward her, folding his arms in front of his chest. "It is my opinion, that while your skill and experience qualify you to complete many tasks as well or better than your male counterparts, the way you process what you experience is completely different and therefore, requires a different approach. PTSD, while not a new concept to the military, is a relatively new concept with women who are serving today."

"PTSD…Sir?" Where had this come from? Mac felt completely blindsided.

"Let me be direct Colonel, over the past week, you have suffered an extremely traumatic experience. What I know of your history makes me duty bound to place you in a situation that will allow you to overcome that trauma, while maintaining your position here at JAG."

"So you're requiring me to undergo a psychological exam and counseling sir?"

"I am, you will report to Commander Vera McCool at Bethesda tomorrow, you will follow up with the Commander, as she recommends."

"But Sir, I..."

"This is not up for debate, Colonel, you will do this."

Mac was quiet for a moment, and then she said "You're requiring both Commander Rabb…and myself to attend counseling..."

"My orders for you and the Commander are two separate issues. The reasons for my orders for each of you have nothing to do with each other, and require no more explanation than I have given, Colonel. You are individuals in this office; your relationship will remain outside this office, are we clear?"

"Yes, sir"

"You're dismissed."

Mac stood at attention and then turned on her heel and left the Admirals office.

The Admiral watched her leave and then the thought occurred to him, that this was one of the hardest things he ever had to do since he had come to JAG. Getting in Rabb's face yesterday had been difficult but then there were times, he had to admit, it was extremely gratifying.

Mac was different, she always had been. He knew that requiring Mac to do this would seem to her, to add insult to injury. Even in light of that, it had to be done, because he knew that sooner or later the unaddressed trauma had to surface, and it had the potential to ruin everything Mac had worked for.

His thoughts on this matter only served to reinforce what he believed about himself. It was definitely time to retire, he was too attached to his people, being objective was more than difficult. When Bud had lost his leg and nearly died in Afghanistan, he had spent weeks haunted by his role in his transfer to shipboard JAG on the Seahawk. 10 years ago, both of these tasks would have been done without a second thought.

Now he had no doubt, it was time begin the paperwork and get the process started. By the time it was completely processed, he hoped to have his two senior officers set on a path that would allow them both to complete their careers successfully.

Time would tell.

1545

Tuesday

Bethesda Naval Hospital

Bethesda Maryland

Harm sat waiting for Captain Morrison to return to his office. He had undergone an MRI yesterday, and had been given a full exam by not one, but two physicians. One of them was Captain Morrison, a flight surgeon, the other, a neurologist, Colonel Pope.

He had been given a battery of tests. It had been more than a little disconcerting and a great deal more than Harm had expected. He prepared himself for what was coming about his flight status; he knew he would be restricted, at least temporarily.

He had been told to return to Captain Morrison's office this afternoon to discuss the results of his MRI.

When Captain Morrison entered the room Harm stood and came to attention.

"Stand easy Commander and be seated."

"Sir"

The Captain carried a file with what looked like an x ray film tucked into it, which he opened and placed on his desk in front of him.

"I've just spoken with the neurologist and with the radiologist who read your MRI. Your physical exam was within normal limits; however there are some concerns with regard to your MRI."

He stood and motioned for Harm to come closer as he placed the film on the lighted frame on the wall. He took out a pen and pointed to a spot on the front of the film. "Commander, this is where you sustained the blow to head"; he then directed Harm's attention to a very small spot at what appeared to be the back of his head.

"Do you see this small white line, here commander?" There was a very small spot on the film, if the Captain had not directed him to it, Harm might not have seen it.

"Yes, sir"

"The radiologist believes and I concur that this is a contra coupe lesion. It is very small and the damage, so far, is limited. The neurologist also reviewed your films and report and is in agreement. His assessment is also that you have suffered a Grade V concussion."

Harm frowned, this didn't make sense, he felt fine, and he didn't feel as though he had any kind of brain injury.

"Contra coupe?"

"When you crashed and suffered a blow to your head, in front, it actually caused your brain to 'bounce' for lack of a better word, off of the back of your skull, thus injuring your brain in two places. In front and in back. You are fortunate that the lesion is not larger, the neurological damage could have been profound.

Right now, it doesn't present symptoms that will hamper your ability to function normally, though you are demonstrating some minor symptoms of post traumatic syndrome, with your complaint of head aches and dizziness."

"I don't understand,"

"Your symptoms should dissipate within the next 30 days, Commander. However I am temporarily terminating your flight status for 60 days." He began to walk back toward his desk and directed Harm back to the chair in front of his desk.

"Sir? I expected to be temporarily restricted, but I'm fine, I've had… maybe one headache since I returned, how can I be brain injured?"

"I have been reviewing your case file Commander. You had a serious injury with loss of consciousness two years ago. That coupled with your recent injury poses too great a risk."

"Sir, I didn't incur a head injury at that time."

"Commander Rabb, your whole body was traumatized in that ejection, you were unconscious for some time after your rescue and you also suffered post traumatic amnesia after regaining consciousness. You were returned to full flight status less than a month after your injury."

"Apparently, the flight surgeon didn't feel I was NPQ at that time."

"That was his privilege; I am not that flight surgeon, Commander."

"Yes, sir" Harm reined himself in, he had expected to be restricted, but he didn't want the diagnosis of brain injury anywhere in his record.

"You should know that my recommendation will be that you only be allowed to return to Medical Service Group 2 upon your return to flight status."

"You're permanently restricting me from shipboard aircrew?" Harm had not expected this.

"Commander, I could not in clear conscious allow you to return to carrier duty given the injury you sustained. I have no doubt that the repeated traps would injure you further."

Harm couldn't believe it; the Captain was essentially saying he'd never fly an F 14 again. He'd fight it, there had a way.

Harm's expression gave away his intentions

. "It is your right to appeal my findings, Commander Rabb, but I will recommend that you not be reinstated to Medical Service Group 1 without approval from SBFS in Pensacola."

"Yes, sir."

"Report back to me in 60 days. That will be all"

Harm stood and came to attention and left the room.

1730

Tuesday

Mac's apartment

Georgetown

Mac stood in her kitchen setting things up for Harm to make dinner. He wouldn't tell her what it would be, saying he wanted to surprise her. Harm wasn't officially back at JAG, though they both saw that as just a formality. Mac's case load was light, since so much was handed over to Bud and Sturgis prior to her departure for Paraguay.

She did as she was ordered and kept her appointment with Commander McCool earlier this afternoon. She didn't suppose it was too bad, for a psych session, but she resented being ordered to be there. Her coping mechanisms were well established, she didn't need a shrink to tell her how to use them. They'd worked for her so far, why did she need to do anything any differently?

She'd like to see Commander McCool or anyone else go through what she had in her lifetime and be able to cope. The thought made her angry, though she didn't want to dwell on it. Mac followed orders, it always worked for her before, and there was no reason it wouldn't now. Hopefully, she'd be able to tell this shrink just enough so that Commander McCool would feel that she'd helped Mac 'overcome her trauma'.

Still angry at the thought, Mac smirked and shook her head, walking back into her living room; she looked out of her front window to see Harm getting out of his SUV. He was in uniform, God; it was great to see him in uniform. She'd always loved him in summer whites, truth be told, she preferred them to dress whites, but she'd never tell him that. She grinned, thinking that he already knew too well how good looking he was, but then Mac noticed his expression, it was solemn and sad. What had happened? Harm said that today was just a follow up on his physical and all the testing he had yesterday, he was sure he was fine.

She watched until he disappeared from her line of sight. Hurrying to her door, she opened it and watched until she saw him step off of the elevator. He still wore the same troubled expression but when he saw her, it changed immediately to the one that Mac could never truly resist. He turned his beautiful smile on her, full force.

"Hey…waiting for me?" She looked so beautiful standing there, in just a white t shirt and jeans. The t shirts had a feminine cut at the neckline, showing of her delicate bone structure and shoulders. This is what he needed, standing there, just for him.

She hid her concern about what she saw in his expression, just moments ago. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. I'm hungry Sailor, where are all the good things you're going to make me for dinner?"

In fact he'd driven around for over an hour, his promise of dinner for Mac lost in his effort to trying to get a handle on how he felt about this.

Harm stopped mid stride. "Oh… I didn't bring them, I forgot about dinner. Do you want to go out?"

"Not necessarily, get in here flyboy; I'm sure we can find something for dinner."

He walked into the apartment and before Mac had fully closed the door, he gathered her into his arms. "Hmm, hello you."

She felt so good in his arms and after this afternoon, he just wanted to lose himself in her. He leaned back just enough to kiss her. "You know, you taste ...delicious, uh…can we have dinner…later?"

"We can." Mac kissed him again, not quite allowing him to deepen this kiss.

"Good." He skimmed his hands down her back and let them rest on her hips

"Everything went okay today at Bethesda?"

The question pained him immediately but he pushed the pain away as quickly as it came. "Okay, I guess, the neurologist says I sustained a concussion, I think he said GradeV. The flight surgeon terminated my flight status for 60 days, and doesn't want me flying F 14's anymore."

"What?"

Harm couldn't hide the sadness anymore, but he didn't want to talk about this. He couldn't say anything, he couldn't go there now. He just wanted her. He could shut it out, if he could just be with her. He rested his forehead against hers.

"Are you okay, Harm?"

Harm pulled her into an embrace, and brought his lips to her ear and in a voice thick with need, he whispered. "Physically, I'm fine. The rest, I don't want to talk about, not now," closing his lips around her ear lobe, he teased her. "I've got something a lot more interesting in mind."

Mac turned her head toward the voice that sent tingling sensations all the way to her toes as Harm covered her mouth with his, its taste taking him just where he wanted to go.

When she thought about it later, Mac would never understand where the irritation with his obvious evasion of the subject, had come from. Harm had always been this way; she knew how to get what she wanted from him, most of the time. However, this time, for whatever reason, she couldn't let it go. She breathlessly broke the kiss.

"The only time you want to talk about anything is when it's about me. Let me in Harm."

Softly closing his lips around her full top lip and then teasing her bottom lip, he asked. "When did I shut you out?"

Mac was unable to resist deepening the kiss, but after a long moment she answered him. "You don't shut me out, anymore….you just…..distract me."

Harm began stroking and caressing her back, brushing his lips lightly over the soft skin on her neck, he asked. "Mmm… how?"

His ministrations were stealing her breath. "You know how…..you distract me….with…."

Harm moved to her shoulder and opened his mouth for a taste of the skin there, the neckline of her shirt allowing him full access.

At that moment, Mac found the strength to say the last word of her sentence, "sex."

Laughter rumbled from deep in his chest. "I do not." All the while sliding his hands down to the small of her back and pulling her intimately closer to him.

At Mac's knowing look he answered, "What?"

Harm's laughter had given her a chance to catch her breath, "Stop it Harm." She slipped out of his embrace. "We need to talk about this."

He would only grin slyly as he looked at the front of her snug t shirt; he looked up at her, making sure she understood. He knew… that she was as aroused as he was.

He walked back over to her and braced both arms on each side of her, resting them on the kitchen counter. He repeated the same words she said to him, when he suggested she talk to someone about her nightmares "_I don't want to rehash the past; I don't want to do that with you…I don't want to do that with anyone.….I just want to be happy, with you_." Waggling his eyebrows at her, sure he had won; he leaned in to kiss her again.

Stung by the fact he had used her own words against her, Mac ducked out of his arms and on the other side of her kitchen.

"How are we ever going to get through this if we can't talk about it? You have to let go of your little obsession Harm, before it kills you."

Harm's playful mood disappeared immediately, "You don't know what you're talking about, and it's not an obsession Mac." Harm was angry that she could call how he felt about flying a 'little obsession.'

"I hate it when you speak that way, as though flying is a little game I'm playing…. Was I playing a game when I flew a Stealth out of the Iranian Desert and landed it, _safely,_ on a carrier? Was it a game in the Persian Gulf, when I outran that Nuke? Or was it fun and games when we took out those Stingers in Paraguay?" He stepped back from her, a sarcastic gleam in his eyes. In the back of his mind he knew this was overkill, he wasn't half as angry at Mac as he was at the situation, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. Captain Morrison had made it clear, that part of his life was over.

Mac placed her hands on her hips and smirked. "You mean when we crashed in Paraguay?'

Harm was looking at her angrily but at her words, his face became completely expressionless. He turned away from her and walked into her living room and picking up his keys, walked out her front door.

Mac was stunned for a moment, and then followed him, "Harm?"

But it was too late, he was already gone.

She walked to the door, but did not open it. She placed her open palm on the closed door. 'Damn it Harm', she thought, 'why are you doing this?' She had just wanted to help, why wouldn't he let her?

She walked quickly to the window and watched as he got into his SUV. Why didn't he see that he was lucky to be alive, why wasn't it enough that he was a brilliant attorney, that he was going back to JAG and that she loved him? Why did flying come before everything, even his life? Then Mac had another thought….

Why the hell did she bring up that crash in Paraguay?

_**Two hours later…..**_

After her anger at the situation had subsided; she was left with the worry of where Harm was and what he was going through, alone. She had to find him.

Mac had driven by his apartment, and then thinking he might have gone to the Mall, she drove there and parked. She wandered the grounds…looking a man whose image and profile, she would know a mile away.

Unexpectedly, she happened to meet someone, someone she hadn't seen in quite awhile. It was Meredith Cavanaugh, sitting on one of the many benches that lined the reflecting pool.

"I haven't seen you at JAG lately."

Meredith smiled "No."

Something about her answer and expression, told Mac not to ask why.

Meredith quickly changed the subject. "What brings you out to the Mall all alone? I understand you and Commander Rabb are seeing each other."

Mac only smiled and nodded.

"It's about time, AJ tells me that you're practically inseparable now."

'Not today' Mac thought. "I just decided to get out and take a walk by myself, it's a beautiful evening, and I didn't want to waste it."

"So the Commander won't be meeting you?"

"No, I don't think so." How she wished he were.

Meredith smiled knowingly, they were fighting, Mac's face was an open book. "How about a cup of coffee? There's got to be a Starbucks close by, I think we have one on every corner now."

Mac laughed and decided to humor her, she thought that if she did, maybe Meredith wouldn't ask the real reason she was walking around in the Mall, alone.

She was mistaken.

After they had sat down to have their coffee, Meredith intimated that she and AJ weren't seeing each other anymore. She asked that Mac not say anything to AJ, that she was sure he would tell her sometime.

"I'm sorry." They seemed like such a nice couple, the Admiral had seemed so lonely when she came into his life.

"No, don't be, it seems we both decided that it was time. AJ is a wonderful man, but he and I both knew that we didn't have a future. He's thinking about retirement, and I don't think he could see me as part of the plan."

Meredith changed the subject again this time catching Mac completely off guard when she asked, "So, what are you and Harm fighting about?"

Mac was taken aback by her direct question. "I didn't say we were fighting."

Meredith knew her powers of perception were still in place and Mac smiled and shook her head. "It's nothing."

"I'm sorry my dear, but if I may, I'd like to say something. In my observation of you both, you appear to be very passionate people. Passionate about everything, and I'm sure, that would include, each other. Surely you don't expect everything to be smooth sailing just because you've finally given in to that passion….do you?"

Mac looked down into her coffee cup, Meredith's frankness causing the color to rise in her cheeks. "I guess not."

"Of course not," She reached over and rested her hand on Mac's forearm. 'It would be a shame that the same passion that brought you together, would drive you apart, wouldn't it? You're not thinking of doing that are you, Mac?"

This was getting far too personal. "No."

"I'm sorry dear, I've overstepped. My only intent was to help you."

It was time for Mac to turn the tables on Meredith and redirect this conversation. "What about you? Are you sure everything is over between you and the Admiral?"

Meredith smiled, "I am, what we had, was nice, it was comfortable but it was not passionate and I don't think either of us are too old for passion. I know that I'm not. Our passions are what make us human; they separate us from the angels."

Meredith's words brought to mind the verse that Mac had overheard in Sadiq's compound being read by one of the missionaries. _'You have made him a little lower the angels, you have crowned him with glory and honor….' _That was Harm, and maybe that was why it was so hard for him to let go of flying….maybe that was what he felt. The very thought of him now brought unshed tears stung her eyes and she willed herself to focus again on Meredith.

"I'm glad you and the Admiral parted friends."

"I am too, and I hope that you and your Commander, never part at all. That truly would be a tragedy. " She had reached across the table and patted her hand. "I should go." She quickly stood, "It was good to see you again Mac."

"Nice to see you again Meredith."

With that, the two acquaintances went their separate ways, Meredith back to the stack of essays that her students had written, and that she had to begin to grade tonight, and Mac to try and find Harm, make things right between them.

1955

Tuesday

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Admiral Chegwidden was turning off the light over his desk, getting ready to leave for the day. He turned to walk around his desk and glancing out the window, he noticed Mac's red corvette driving through the main gate into the JAG parking lot.

He watched as she drove around the lot, and then she appeared to be slowly circling the building. He could see from his vantage point that Mac was alone, and if she didn't park her car and come up, he was sure he knew why she had come. She was looking for Rabb.

He had spoken with Captain Morrison earlier that afternoon. He would have his formal report tomorrow, but the flight surgeon had been clear. There would be no more carrier quals for Commander Rabb.

Knowing that Rabb had been unconscious as long as he was after he crashed, the Admiral knew he'd be grounded for at least a year, but the flight surgeon told him that he intended to strongly recommend that Rabb only be allowed Medical Service Group 2 clearance. The Admiral was sure this was going to be a hell of a pill for him to swallow. Now, it was clear, Rabb would have to live up to what he'd told him he really wanted. To return to JAG and do the job.

He looked down at the parking lot again, seeing Mac make another pass through the lot. If the look on Mac's face was any indication, Rabb wasn't taking this well. 'Damn' he thought. There was no way he could intervene. Not now, to his mind, it would just make the situation worse.

What was it with these aging aviators anyway?

Hell, Rabb was nearly 40 years old. Then it came to him, he knew what he could do. There was someone Harm knew and trusted and understood him, because God help him, he sure didn't.

Tom Boone….speaking of aging aviators.

TBC

A/N: I took much of my information from the United States Naval Flight Surgeon Handbook, 2nd Edition and the Manual of Medical Department USN Aug. 2002

A/N: The quote at the top of the page is from John Page to Thomas Jefferson on July 20th 1776, on the signing of the Declaration of Independence.

I'm embarrassed to say that I considered not using the first line of the quote, not wanting to stir any type of political discussion, but then, I thought the heck with it, that I would include it. I did it simply because it is the truest desire of my heart.

I have always loved this quote, and the idea of the angel in the whirlwind.

Harm and Mac are in a whirlwind now, if anyone needs an angel, they do.

Definitions:

NPQ: Not Physically Qualified

SBFS: Special Board of Flight Surgeons: A board that evaluates medical cases due to their complexity or uniqueness.

Medical Service Groups: Active Naval Aviators are divided into these three groups based on the physical requirements for the purposes of specific flight duty assignment.

Group 1: Aviators qualified for unlimited duty.

Group 2: Aviators restricted from shipboard aircrews duties.

Group 3: Aviators who are restricted to dual control aircraft only and must be accompanied on all flights by a co pilot of Medical Service Group 1 or 2.(This one would have our hero jumping up and down, grin)

PTSD: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder

PTSD information was taken from the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs Website.

The Mall: Located in downtown Washington DC. Includes the land stretching from the grounds of the Washington Monument to the US Capital Building and includes all the monuments and museums in between.

I went off the deep end with definitions….didn't I?


	15. Chapter 15

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 15

Disclaimers: As previously stated

A/N: This will be short; I hated to leave you all in that spot for more than 24 hours or so. Thanks everyone for your interest

2055

Tuesday

Leesburg, Virginia

Harm had driven out of DC and toward Leesburg. He always went there to clear his head, he thought he'd take Sarah up for a while and when he came back down, everything would make sense. He realized though, by the time he got there that he couldn't take Sarah up either, at not for 60 days.

Pops, resident mechanic, and owner of the hangar allowed him to keep a locker there and he changed out of his uniform into an old pair of jeans and t shirt. He hadn't had time to do any maintenance on his plane since last fall, so he decided to do it now. He didn't want to go back to Washington right now; he didn't want to talk to anyone. Working on this plane had always helped him clear his mind; he hoped it would still be true.

Harm had been working for some time when he heard the sound of footsteps on the concrete floor. He looked up to see Admiral Boone walking into the building.

"Do you know you've got half of DC looking for you?"

"Did Mac call you?" He returned his attention to the engine of his plane. Harm thought he knew why he had come; he thought Mac must have told the Admiral about his restricted flight status.

"No, it was Admiral Chegwidden, he just had an idea you might be out here.

Hell Rabb, I'm surprised that Homeland Security isn't looking for you."

Harm looked down from the ladder he was standing on and gestured toward the plane. "Did Dad ever tell you about this?"

"Is that the Steerman he was always talking about restoring? What did he call her…Sarah?"

"The very one, my grandmother kept it for him and then later……for me." and to himself, he thought 'and now the name 'Sarah' has a whole new meaning.'

Tom Boone walked around the plane, occasionally running his hand over the wings and fuselage.

As Tom walked over to the open hangar door, Harm asked him, "How did you get over it?"

Tom looked over his shoulder curiously, "Get over it?"

"Being limited, never being able to fly off of a carrier again."

"I don't know if I am over it."

Harm continued to work on the plane, not finding much comfort in the Admirals words.

Admiral Boone walked around the hangar, not feeling the need to converse, appearing to be deep in thought; Harm would glance at him now and again, wondering what he would say next or if he was going to say anything at all.

Some time later Harm made his way down the ladder and over to the tool bench and Admiral Boone met him there. "I'll miss flying for the Navy until the day I die, and you will too, but there's something else you should think about."

Harm stopped what he was doing and gave him his full attention.

"Think about how few men ever have the privilege that we've had, flying the most sophisticated aircraft ever built, in the most powerful military in the world. We've both had our time, in our turn, to make a difference, Harm. It's time to let the younger men coming up, have theirs."

Harm turned and leaned back against the tool bench; looking at 'Sarah' and wondering if just flying for pleasure would ever be enough. Less than a week ago, he couldn't think of anything but getting Mac out of Paraguay, no matter what it took. Now, though he'd never regret going after her, the loss he felt since he'd talked to Captain Morrison this afternoon was profound.

"I know you're right…..it's just hard to explain….the loss, to people who've never …"

Admiral Boone finished his thought for him. "It's hard to describe something so …..superior to any other experience, to someone who hasn't experienced it themselves."

Harm chuckled, Admiral Boone had nailed it. "Yes, sir…..that's what I mean, exactly."

"As far as Mac is concerned, I don't really have any advice there."

Harm looked over at him, surprised that he would mention something so personal.

"I never had anyone permanent enough in my life to explain it to."

Admiral Boone laughed and said "It made things less complicated."

Harm laughed with him, but he caught what the Admiral was trying to say, he did need to try to talk to Mac. He was fortunate to have her in his life and he knew that. He just hadn't been ready, the news was too fresh, and he didn't want to deal with it. He still didn't know how he felt about it.

Admiral Boone started to walk away from the tool bench. "I'm going to get back."

"You can stay if you like, I could use the help."

"No thanks…I'm retired, besides, I said what I came to say. I am going to say one more thing, though. You still have another 10 years left in your Navy career. You can spend it bitter about what you've lost or enjoy what you have now." He began walking away from him. "It's up to you."

Harm turned and watched him leave and as he passed the open door of the hangar, he said "Admiral."

Admiral Boone stopped and looked at him.

"Thanks."

He nodded an acknowledgement, "Anytime, I think I could get used to being an old sage."

Harm spent the next hour finishing up his maintenance check on 'Sarah'. He'd completely lost track of time when he noticed that it was nearly 2200. He turned out all the lights and closed up the building, as he'd promised Pops he would.

After he got into his vehicle, he took out his cell phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Hello?"

"Mac?"

'Harm, where are you?"

"I'm in Leesburg?"

"Leesburg?" Surely he wasn't trying to fly now; he had been restricted from anything for 60 days.

"I wasn't flying…just doing some maintenance on my plane…..Look Mac, I'm sorry I walked out like that."

"I shouldn't have said what I did, Harm. I don't think the way you feel about flying is a game. I just didn't like having my own words used against me. I just wanted to help, you know?"

"I know…its okay, listen, it will be late by the time I get back to DC, so I think I'll just go back to my place. I have to see Captain Miles tomorrow at 1000. "

"The psychologist?"

"Yeah….I didn't even ask you about your appointment."

Silence

After an interminable few seconds, Harm spoke. "You don't want to talk about it either….do you?"

Mac laughed, though a tear was falling down her cheek. "No…I don't."

"We're a pair aren't we, Mackenzie?

"Yes… we are." She wiped another tear away, never giving Harm an indication that she was anything but calm.

"I'll call you." He could have said tomorrow, but he knew he wouldn't be ready to talk about anything then either. He wasn't looking forward to his turn at a counseling session.

"Okay, I'll talk to you then."

After Mac ended the call, she stood with her hand still on the receiver. She wanted him here with her, but she wasn't ready for the kind of conversation they need to have when they saw each other again.

0915

Wednesday

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Mac was leaving the conference room and starting for the break room to get the largest cup of coffee she could find. Trying to sleep last night had been ridiculous, and when she finally did, she only dreamt of Sadiq hate filled face, with Webb screaming in the background. This was the reoccurrence of her nightmare since her first night back from Paraguay and in that instance, Harm had been there, his voice calming and reassuring her.

She missed him; she'd missed him so much last night. He seemed fine when she spoke to him last night, but distant. Just as she rounded the corner toward the break room, she saw Harm walking across the bullpen toward the elevators.

"Hey" She tried to sound casual but she'd never been so glad to see anyone in her life.

"Hey, I just wanted to stop by for a moment on my way to Bethesda, I thought I might catch you for a couple of minutes after staff call." He smiled at her, but he looked tired and more than a little tense.

"I've got a few. Come on into my office." Her heart was warming at the thought that JAG wasn't on the way to Bethesda. He'd made a special trip, for just a few minutes with her.

Harm looked at his watch, "Okay, I've got a few more minutes."

After Mac had closed her office door behind them, she saw a note in the middle of her desk pad, along with a cup of coffee. She walked around her desk and saw the note placed just under the bottom of the cup.

"Did you leave this for me?"

"Yeah, Mac I should probably go." He honestly would be late if he didn't get out of there. The other thing was, he wanted to hold her close to him so badly he could hardly stand it.

"But you just got here." 'Okay Harm,' she thought, 'No pulling me close, then pushing me away.'

"I know, I just….didn't want to leave things as they were last night. I over reacted Mac, I'm having a harder time with this than I should be. There is so much I want to say now, and this is not the place…"

"I understand…..I know." Her voice was soft and she took a step toward him.

The sound of her voice and her nearness was having the effect it always did on him lately, he could hardly keep his hands off of her, so he turned and took hold of the door knob.

"Harm what is it?"

Harm shook his head and turn away from her. "It's not you, or anything like that…I guess it is you, in a way...but I."

"Harm what are you talking about?" She hadn't seen him at loss for words like this, in a very long time.

"I don't know, I feel like hell, I don't want to go to this…. damn appointment." He looked at her in a way that broke Mac's heart. "And I want to touch you so badly that if I don't get out of here, counseling will be the least of our worries."

"Oh." Mac looked down, smiling shyly and feeling relief washing over her. "I understand." He was still hers.

"Do you?"

'Yes, I know just how you feel." She looked back up at him, trying to tell him with her eyes how much she'd missed him last night, and how much she needed him now.

Silence

"Will you come over tonight, let me make you dinner?" He'd asked her in the note, but he needed to know now. He wanted to take the thought of it with him when he went into that session. Why did he feel as though he were going into battle?

Mac looked at him for a moment, not sure she was ready for another blow up like they had last night.

"Maybe we need to decide some ground rules, Mac. It's like you said. We have to get through this."

He looked out into the bullpen and saw the Admiral crossing the room. "I should get going." He opened the door. "1800?"

"Yeah, I'll be there."

"Good." He opened the door and slipped out, glancing back at her, melting her heart with the warmth in his tired eyes

After he left, she picked up the coffee cup and drank deep from the still warm brew. God, she loved that man, he'd made her coffee just the way she liked it.

She picked up the note Harm had left her. It was inside an envelope, it looked as though he had written it before he came this morning. It read,

_Mac,_

_I know I already said it last night, but I'm sorry about yesterday. I know I got too angry, too fast. We've both been on an emotional roller coaster for the last few weeks, I know yesterday wasn't easy for you either. We do need to talk about this; I don't want to lose what we have. I need you. Come to dinner tonight, I'll cook and we can talk. _

_Harm_

_PS: Last night was one of the longest nights of my life._

A/N: As I said, I know this is shorter than usual, but your posts gave me a guilty conscience.


	16. Chapter 16

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 16/17

Disclaimers: I do not own any of the JAG characters; I don't own any product or label mentioned for the purposes of telling this story. Any similarities to situations or persons living or dead are purely coincidental.

Spoilers: Any JAG episode up to and including A Tangled Webb II.

A/N: PFOD: Presumptive Finding of Death – KIA Killed in Action

_The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be,_

_by the better angels of our nature_

_Abraham Lincoln_

_At his first Inaugural address_

0945

Wednesday

May 11, 2003

Outside Bethesda Naval Hospital

Bethesda Maryland

Harm parked his Lexus in the lot adjacent to the hospital. He straightened his cover and walked toward the hospitals entrance, his carriage and demeanor giving away none of the anxiety he felt. As he approached the building, he noticed someone sitting on one of the benches on the well manicured grounds. Harm looked at his watch, seeing that he was 15 minutes early.

He refocused his attention on the man sitting on the bench; He was in uniform, looked to be in his mid 50's and was smoking a cigar. Harm had given them up years ago, but right at this moment wished to hell he hadn't. The man looked up as he approached and Harm noticed the gold wings above the ribbons on his uniform. For a split second, both officers felt an unspoken kinship and it put Harm more at ease, immediately.

He slowed his pace, deciding he'd just wait here for a few minutes, so that the wait at Captain Miles office wouldn't be so long.

Harm noticed too that he was approaching a Captain, so Harm saluted smartly, and the Captain returned his salute and told him to have a seat.

"Thank you sir."

Harm glanced at the Captains cigar, and in response the Captain asked, "Do you smoke, Commander?"

"No, sir, not anymore"

"Waiting for someone?"

"No, I'm just killing a few minutes; I have an appointment at 1000."

"I see"

"What did you fly?" Harm looked again at the gold wings and also noticed the medical insignia on the Captains collar.

"F 4's…Vietnam…a long time ago."

"You?"

"F 14's mostly, in both Gulf Wars, but I'm at JAG now."

The captain nodded and Harm's mind returned to the reason he was there this morning.

"Are you familiar with Captain Oliver Miles?"

A slow smile spread across the Captains face, "The name is vaguely familiar."

Harm was thoughtful for a moment, and under his breath, he said, "Oliver…. I thought Harmon was bad."

The Captain's smile grew even wider, this was his 1000 appointment. Commander Harmon Rabb. This was going to be interesting. "Pardon me, Commander?"

"I'm sorry, sir. I'm speaking my thoughts aloud today."

Harm was beginning to feel on edge again, he didn't want to go up, but he had to be sure he was on time. Who knew if this guy wasn't going to report directly to the Admiral?

"Excuse me sir, I'd better get to my appointment, I don't want to be late."

The Captain positioned himself in a way that Harm would not be able to see his name 'Miles' on his name tag.

"By your leave, sir." Harm came to attention and saluted.

He nodded, "Carry on, Commander," and watched Harm make his way toward the main entrance to the hospital.

0958

Wednesday

Captain Oliver Miles Office

Harm sat waiting in the empty outer office. Just as he stood to take a look outside in the hall, the Captain that he had been speaking with just a few minutes before walked into the room.

He walked directly up to the door of Captain Miles' office and used a key to open the door. Harm had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach, wondering if the Captain had heard his comment on the unusual name…Oliver. This was just great, he thought.

He opened the office door and then turned toward him. "Commander Rabb, I'm Captain Miles. Why don't you come in, and take a seat? I'll be right with you."

In a few moments the Captain had settled into the chair behind his desk and Harm was sitting, uncomfortably, before him.

He opened a file and skimming over it, he told him "Admiral Chegwidden told me your service record read like a cross between 'Top Gun' and 'A Few Good Men' and he wasn't kidding."

"Yes, sir." Harm was still ill at ease, he didn't like this, and now since he'd made a bit of a crack about the Captains name, he felt even more uncomfortable.

"Relax, Commander. Today isn't the first time I've heard someone say that I had an unusual name, though I will say, I'll take Oliver over Harmon, any day."

Harm couldn't help chuckling and the tension level in the room dropped considerably.

"I've spoken to Admiral Chegwidden at length; first of all, I would like your take on why you think you're here."

Harm looked at him directly. He answered the Captain with one of his standard, 'take it any way you want' answers. "A lot of reasons…probably"

"Can you pinpoint one, right off the top of your head?"

"Well, I think the Admiral is concerned that I've taken a lot of risks lately, in my career. He is aware of my history, as I'm sure you are if you read my service record, and he thinks I have unresolved issues about my father." Harm was surprised at himself... that sounded good.

"Do you agree with him?"

"Not entirely."

"Why?"

"Because I had to resolve some issues, on my own."

He looked down at his notes, "You went to Vietnam to look for your father at 16?"

"I wasn't successful." 'Not that time' Harm thought. He knew he couldn't tell the Captain about Russia, it wasn't official in anyone's book, and he wasn't sure that the Captain wouldn't think he was crazy for believing what Harm knew to be true. His father had died in Russia and he was buried there, as other American POW's most likely had been.

"So the issue wasn't resolved, was it Commander?"

"I guess not, but I think I've come to terms with the…situation since then."

'Did you and your family receive a lot of support after your father was found to be MIA?"

"In the beginning, yes, but then as time went on, things changed. People became uncomfortable when my fathers name was mentioned. I was pretty young; I didn't understand back then how painful it was for Mom, and for Dad's friends and family. I just knew when I mentioned something about him; the room would suddenly become quiet. I felt as though I did something wrong." Harm hadn't been looking at the Captain, until he finished his statement, surprised that he'd said as much as he had.

"Did your Mom seek any kind of support group for you or for herself?'

Harm looked at him sharply, "No. We didn't need one, we were fine."

"Did you talk to your mother about how you felt about any of this, about your father's absence or what you told me earlier, the discomfort when you mentioned your father?"

"No, I didn't…I thought it was my job to make things as easy for my Mother as possible, that was one of the things my Dad told me to do,… and I remembered that to the letter."

"After your father's status was changed from MIA to KIA…"

"His status was not called KIA, it was called presumptive finding of death, even though the official position was that they couldn't rule out the possibility of American POW's being left behind." Harm answered quickly, with an edge to his voice, it still made him angry that his father went from an MIA to PFOD by an act of Congress.

"After his status changed, did you have problems remembering things about your father?"

"No…not really, my mother gave me some of the letter tapes he sent her while he was deployed. That helped me know him better."

"I'm talking about what you remember Commander."

"I remember….a lot of things. A Tiger cruise, I was only 5, but I remember it all. It was the first time I ever sat in the cockpit of a fighter. He took me fishing," Harm chuckled, "He tried to teach me to play baseball; I was never really good at it, Dad even tried to coach me on his letter tapes."

Captain Miles smiled, "You look more like the basketball type to me."

Harm nodded, "yeah, my height was an advantage and until I got over the awkward stage and learned to play well, it helped."

"Since you became an adult, have you contacted any of the MIA family support groups?"

"No, I never really felt the need, and to tell the truth, some of the groups were blatantly anti military and anti government. I didn't really fit that mold. I just wanted to know what happened to my father and bring him home. I got more support from individuals, veterans who served in the Vietnam War, than the organizations who claimed to speak for me or my mother."

The Captain raised his eyebrows, thinking that was pretty sad commentary, but unfortunately this was not the first time he'd heard that stated.

"Are you speaking of the individual who assisted you when you went to Vietnam on your own, that was a pretty gutsy move for a kid of 16."

"I suppose it was, but it was more about desperation for me. From the time Saigon fell and the last POW's came home, until I went with Stryker to Vietnam, something was just building up, inside. Every day that someone wasn't looking for my Dad, to me was a day he could have died waiting for someone to find him and bring him home."

"Did you feel as though your father was betrayed?"

"I don't know…No, I don't think so."

"Did you feel that your mother betrayed your father?'

"Is this where you ask me if I hate my Mother? The answer is no, I don't hate her, I realize, now, what she was dealing with."

"I didn't ask you if you hated her Commander, I asked you if you feel she betrayed your father."

Harm was thoughtful for a moment, "I never felt she betrayed him, I just don't think she understood… I know she had a really…tough time."

"How long did your mother wait to remarry?"

Harm stood up, without thinking and walked toward the window of the Captains office, then answered. "It was 1977."

"That is 8 years after your father went down, two years after Saigon fell...that's a long time….Did she date a lot before that time?"

Harm turned and looked at him sharply. "No."

The Captain looked at him steadily for a moment; the subject seemed to be a flashpoint so he decided he would push the subject.

"Do you get along well with your step father?"

"Yes, I do now; but I can't say I gave him much of a chance back then."

"Did you have a lot of disagreements with him, did you fight his authority?"

"I never 'fought' with Frank, I just wasn't comfortable…doing things with him. The things that should have been father - son things The only disagreement we had, the only time he was ever angry with me was when I ran off with Stryker to Vietnam."

Harm walked over to his chair and sat back down again, still lost in his own thoughts. He chuckled, "I really thought he was going to deck me. He kept asking me, over and over, do you know what you put your mother through? Do you know you could have been killed? He was so mad he was shaking."

"How about your Mom, what did she say?"

Harm dropped his gaze and sat forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, "She...uh, didn't really say anything. She just walked up to me, she was….crying, she slapped me…the first and only time she ever…."

Harm was silent…this was getting hard as hell to talk about. "It didn't really hurt me…" That had just been one of the worst days of his life. He'd never seen his mother like she was that day, not even the day they were notified his father was missing. He swallowed hard and continued. "After she did that…it was like she was as surprised as I was that she had done it. She threw her arms around me and continued to cry, she was almost hysterical." His face still burned with shame when he spoke of it. He saw his mother grieve his father, for years after he was MIA, but up to that day, he had only seen her cry in silence.

"Frank pulled her away from me and told me to go upstairs to my room. Mom didn't calm down for a long time." He sat up straight in his chair; the memory was still painful, more so than he thought it would be. He had sat on the side of his bed, with his hands over his ears, trying to stop the sound of her seemingly inconsolable sobbing.

"Was it a long time before you and your mother reconciled?"

"The next morning, Mom came down, while I was having breakfast, she sat down with me and apologized for slapping me. She wouldn't look at me at first and then when she did look at me, she told me never to do that again, and I promised her I wouldn't." Harm paused for a moment, "We never spoke of it again."

"Did you keep your promise?"

"While I lived at home with my mother and stepfather, I kept my promise. After I left for the Academy and flight school, my life was so busy that I didn't really pursue trying to find out what happened to my father for some time after. Though I did as much research as I could through the freedom of information act."

"I get the impression from your statement that you've done more than research since that time."

"You could say that. It was after I came to JAG, I was given access to some classified information that I did eventually pursue."

"Classified information?"

"With respect sir, I cannot divulge the sources or the details of the information I was given." Harm knew he had to be careful what he said, if he wasn't, he'd never get back in the air again, hell; they'd probably have processed him out of the Navy before he even knew what was happening.

Captain Miles sat back in his chair, contemplating what the Commander said. His statement was a bit too cryptic for his taste. "I see….Is Admiral Chegwidden aware of your access to this…. classified information?"

"Yes, sir….he is." He was strangely relieved that the Admiral did know. No one but Admiral Chegwidden would have kept the confidences that Harm required in this matter. Harm's career would have been over a long time ago.

"Did this information assist you in finding out what happened to your father?"

"Yes."

"But it hasn't given you complete closure?"

"I thought so, but apparently, my Commanding Officer doesn't agree."

"Do you trust Admiral Chegwidden's judgment, Commander?"

Harm was taken aback by the question and wondered if the Captain wasn't baiting him. "Yes…I do." 'I just don't always agree with him' he thought.

The Captain looked at the clock on the wall, "Before we finish here Commander, I think it is important to clarify a few things. First, I want to assure you that the reasoning behind your commanding officers insistence on your counseling, was not about his having doubts about your ability to perform your duties at JAG. However, it is clear to me that there are some unresolved issues that should be dealt with so that you can continue your career, without fear of those issues spilling over into your every day life."

He continued, "There are a number of published studies of adult children of MIA's. For the record Commander Rabb, your response to the loss of your father is mild compared to many children of MIA's. Many family members remain in a kind of limbo, unable to get on with their lives, in any meaningful way. While it appears that your methods are somewhat unorthodox, you have accomplished a great deal in your naval career."

"Thank you, sir" Harm grinned sheepishly; the Captain had to be thinking about his colorful service record.

"We will start by seeing you twice weekly Commander." He handed him a card with the number to his appointment desk. "Make an appointment for early next week, Monday or Tuesday will be fine."

He stood, smiling at the relief he could see on the Commanders face that the appointment was over. "It wasn't as bad as you thought it would be, was it?'

Harm couldn't help returning his smile, "No, sir, it wasn't."

They both turned to walk toward the door, when the Captain remembered something; he turned and took a book off of his desk. It was a small thin paperback book, titled 'Adult Children of MIA's A Study of Grief, Interrupted.' "You will have homework." He handed him the book and Harm frowned as he read the title.

"Read it Commander, be prepared to tell me where you see yourself in this study or, if you don't…. I want to know why."

Harm was standing in the doorway; frowning at the title of book he had been given. The Captain was leaning on the open door, "See you next week Commander Rabb."

He looked up at him and answered, "Yes, sir."

He turned and made his way out of the office. It was 1100, it was tempting to see if Mac would be available for lunch, but he knew it would be smarter to just go home, and get things ready for their dinner tonight.

1830

Wednesday

Harm's apartment

North of Union Station

Mac arrived promptly at 1830, looking beautiful in the simplest of clothes. Her jeans were comfortably worn, and a simple cotton v neck sweater, the color of her eyes made her skin look warm, touchable and delicious.

Harm greeted her at the door, lightly caressing her arm and kissing her cheek. "Come in, it's almost ready."

Mac looked up at him, thinking he looked handsome as always, in jeans and the grey pullover she loved, but he looked so tired…and troubled. "Smells great," she followed him in and to the opposite side of the kitchen island. She wanted so badly to ask how his appointment had gone, or why he looked so sad, but she knew better than to ask now. So she began with a nice generic question. "What's on the menu?"

"Bowtie pasta, with pesto sauce and sun dried tomatoes. I included some grilled chicken for you, so you won't be hungry in an hour." Harm gave her a knowing smile.

"You made the grilled chicken, just for me?"

"Consider it a peace offering."

"Offering accepted."

Their eyes locked and for a moment Harm was tempted to walk around the kitchen island and take her in his arms, dinner be damned, but given the fight they'd had avoiding this conversation, he thought better of it.

"Come on, help me get this on the table and we can get started."

After they had settled into their dinner Harm asked, "How did your day go?"

"It was okay, my case load is still pretty light, but I'm hoping that will change next week."

Mac suspected that the Admiral was keeping her caseload light for a purpose, thinking she might need time to adjust after her return from Paraguay. To her mind, it couldn't be farther from the truth. She wanted to be busy, the busier the better.

"What about you?" she asked. It seemed a natural question, given the direction of the conversation.

Harm looked at her and then down at his plate. He put his fork down and placed his hands on both sides of his plate. He pressed his lips together, his expression becoming serious.

"Harm, I'm not trying to pressure you…you don't have to talk about anything you don't want to."

He turned toward her again, "I know, it wasn't easy….the appointment, I mean. But…it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be."

Mac let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. "That's good. That's great."

"Yeah…" He placed his hand over hers and grinned "I think I was expecting a little man with a white lab coat and glasses pushed down on his nose."

Mac laughed out loud at that, almost too loud, she was so afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. Their fight had frightened her, more than she had realized.

Harm gave her hand a squeeze, "Mac, its going to be okay, for both of us."

Mac nodded because her heart was too full to allow her to speak.

"Let's finish up, and then we can talk."

"Okay."

After they finished Harm made coffee and they filled two large mugs full of the warm and comforting brew. They walked into the living room and sat down in the middle of the couch, turned so that they were facing each other.

Mac couldn't keep from studying his face, she knew he noticed but she couldn't seem to stop herself. This was Harm, and he was hurting and she wanted to know why. Harm was quiet, seeming to be pondering what he would say, after a time he sat his coffee cup down and looked up at her.

"Mac, do you know one of the reasons…that I love you?"

The sincerity in his eyes and the frankness of his question nearly took her breath away. "I would love to hear you tell me." She leaned across and sat her coffee cup on the table.

He reached for her arm and closed his fingers around her slender forearm. Seeming to concentrate on her skin and his thumb as it traced back and forth on the under side of her arm, he began. "Because there are things….that you know about me…that I don't have to explain."

Mac listened but didn't quite understand. Harm seemed to sense her confusion and continued, "You know about my father, you were there when I found out about what really happened, about my ramp strike….about what Sergei means to me."

He looked up into her eyes as they filled with tears. He reached to dry them, "Hey…"

She grasped his wrist, "Sometimes I think I'd have given anything not to have been the one…..to tell you about your father. I felt as though I took your hope away."

"Mac…" He pulled her into his arms.

"I won't ever forget it; it was like I saw the hope that had always been there, in your expression and your eyes….die."

He kissed her hair, 'Mac, I'm glad you were there." He stroked her back. "You were kind to me, but you gave me my space. That's what I meant, you know me, you knew what I needed then."

She sat back up and looked at him, knowing she had gotten him off track. "I'm sorry, go on."

He brushed her hair back from her face, closing his fingers around the strands, seeming to focus on them as he spoke. "What I'm trying to say is…Mac…..I've never been the kind of man that could just…bare my soul to someone, even someone that I love….as much as I love you."

He looked into her eyes, "But, it doesn't mean that I don't trust you or that I don't care. Do you understand?"

Mac nodded but was beginning to feel bewildered.

Harm grinned at her, surprised that she was being so quiet. "You're making this much too easy for me tonight Mackenzie."

Mac cleared her throat. "Okay…so, you love me because… because I already know so many things about you that you don't have to talk to me?"

She was still wiping her tears when Harm looked at her incredulously, "What?'

It just dawned on Mac how silly that statement sounded, so she laughed though she still had tears running down her face. "I'm sorry Harm, you're being so sweet and wonderful, but you are confusing the hell out of me." Mac wiped her tears away, with both hands, "I can't believe how emotional I am."

He pulled her back into his arms, "its okay, let me try again. There are things you know and understand about my life that I could never explain to anyone else. I love you because you never ran away from them…or from me. I brought along a lot of baggage, some women might have walked away." 'Some did,' Harm thought.

She continued to rest against his chest, trying to calm herself and loving him for every word he was saying.

Eventually, Mac slipped back out of his arms but held on to his hand. "I know, I feel the same way about you." She stroked the back of his hand. "I always loved and appreciated what you knew about my life, that you were interested and cared about the decisions I made." She gave him a watery smile, "I love that you know when I'm avoiding something, even when it makes me furious." She wiped another tear away and asked, "Harm what are we going to do about this….about the counseling we both seem to hate, about issues we both don't want to talk about?"

"I've been thinking about that a lot, in fact, that was all I did last night, because I sure as hell wasn't sleeping."

"And?"

"Ground rules….I think its going to have to be okay, especially while we're going through this counseling, not to talk about it after, unless we want to."

Mac felt a relief she didn't expect, it was such a simple solution. She nodded, "I like that idea."

"Okay…the next thing we need to discuss…or decide, Mac…I don't want to make assumptions, I know we both have a lot to deal with, but…I still need to….know where you are. When we're not working I'd….like to spend as much time together as we can." Harm looked into her eyes, unsure of how she might react. "I've never been this way before. I thought it might be because I almost lost you in Paraguay, but now I'm not so sure."

Mac grinned, "So you can't resist me…huh Sailor?"

"Hey, don't rub it in…" He narrowed his gaze, feigning irritation.

"I don't have a problem with that Harm, as a matter of fact, I like it…a lot"

She leaned in and kissed him, playfully before she continued.

"And you know, our jobs will take us away from each other, some of the time….I don't think we'll be assigned anything together, now that the Admiral knows about us. If you're concerned about giving each other space right now, I think we should just take one day at a time. Be together when we can, but if one or the other of us needs time alone, then we should be able to do that."

Harm closed his arms around her, nearly pulling her into his lap. "Separate assignments are probably a really good idea, because I'm really having a hard time….keeping my hands off of you."

Mac arched a brow and grinned mischievously. "Because I'm addictive."

He narrowed his eyes and looked down at her lips, "you are Mac, I can shut everything out when I'm here with you like this…I have never been able to do that…with anyone." He tasted her lips and then turned his head slightly to the side, so he could kiss her more deeply.

Mac was beginning to lose herself in his kiss, giving herself over to the passion Harm always brought out in her, when a question occurred to her. She broke the kiss with a smile and Harm asked, "What?"

"I was just going to ask you…..how do you feel about that….Sailor?" She waggled her eyebrows at him, mimicking the cliché question associated with their dreaded counseling sessions and they both broke out into laughter. They needed to laugh, to pull themselves out of the stark seriousness of the last weeks and thumb their noses at it all.

"Oh…not funny Mackenzie." He spoke into her ear, still chuckling as his attention turned back to the task at hand.

"You laughed."

He pulled astride him, "I did." He began kissing her neck, brushing his lips softly over the sensitive skin. "Do you really want to know how I….feel, Mac?"

She arched her back slightly; the magic Harm was making was causing her voice to waver. "You know….I really do."

Harm turned her onto her back in one fluid motion, "Mmm that's good," he linked his fingers with hers, "Because…you're about to find out."

They met each other in the middle and allowed their passions to play out. There wasn't a need for anymore words tonight, though their communication did stop… until deep into the night.

TBC

A/N: I'll be winding this up in another chapter, with work already begun on a second part to this story. The turn I want to take will take quite a few more chapters and I want to be able to make this as easy to keep up with as possible. Thanks to everyone who has hung in there with me.


	17. Chapter 17

A Little Lower Than The Angels

Chapter 17

Disclaimers: As previously stated

Spoilers: Anything up to and including A Tangled Webb II the season 4 episode 'Going After Francesca' will be specifically referred to.

A/N: This chapter will conclude Part One; I will be posting the next part in a few weeks. This time I am going to have it nearly finished before I post so that it is easier for you and for me to enjoy. (smile)

A/N: Many thanks to janlaw for her sharing her knowledge of the JAG Corps and to Cece, for reminding me to trust myself. (smile)

_Other men, it is said, have seen angels_

_But I have seen thee, and though art enough._

_George Eliot_

1130

May 18th, 2003

Wednesday

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

Admiral Chegwidden eyes scanned over his letter of resignation, starting with the JAG letterhead, all the way to his signature at the bottom of the page. He thought of all the changes that would come about as a result of its submission. It would take nearly a year for everything to be in place to allow his retirement. His office was too essential to have a quick transition; proper debriefing and being read out of the classified programs alone would take months. In truth, he'd need that much time to let go and move on anyway. While it was true that the political side of this job had begun to wear on him, the duties of this position, he felt privileged to perform

He reflected on all the changes in his life that had occurred since his graduation from the Academy. His ambitions had been very different then. He had always meant to be a career officer but he could not have foreseen the many turns his life would take. Even when he changed his designator and turned his mind toward the law and the JAG corps, he was still very ambitious. He'd had his eye on the CNO's office, believing that it was only a matter of time until he held that position. Tangling with the former SecNav on more than one occasion had taken care of those ambitions.

He buzzed Petty Officer Tiner's desk.

"Tiner, I have a letter that requires a courier, ASAP."

"Yes, sir"

Admiral Chegwidden placed the letter inside a manila envelope and sealed it. He placed it back down on his desk still contemplating his decision to retire. He could only think, 'No, I have no regrets.' He was sure it was time and though he hadn't gone as far in his career as he had hoped, he was proud of what he had accomplished. His personal life was another matter. Marcella was lost to him, and there was really never anyone else who came close to what he felt for her….but there was still Francesca. He'd been alone for the greater part of his adult life, there was no reason that he couldn't continue life the way he was. He just couldn't see himself married to anyone, not at this stage of his life. He smiled thinking that maybe Kern had been right, he'd become an old cantankerous man.

Who would have him?

Petty Officer Tiner knocked and came in, "Sir?"

"Yes, Petty Officer, I want this to get to the Chief of Naval Personnel….today."

"Yes sir," He came to attention.

"You're dismissed"

As he turned to leave the Admiral made the same request that he had twice this morning, "Tiner?"

He turned to him "Sir?"

"Try to get that call through again to Naples."

Tiner smiled at him, "Yes sir."

1325

Friday

May 20, 2003

US hwy 64 North

Somewhere between Norfolk and DC

Mac was moving through traffic as quickly as she could so that she could get back to DC. It was Friday…finally Friday and she hadn't seen Harm since Tuesday morning. He'd been given a case that took him to Gulfport, Mississippi for a few days, the Admiral had loaned him to the judiciary at Admiral Morris request. The person who held that post had a death in his family and Harm was dispatched right away. Harm was back, he'd come in late last night. He'd called her this morning, just as she was winding things up, saying he had a surprise for her. He asked her if she had a red dress and when she said yes, he only said. "Wear it. I'll pick you up at 1900." He'd ended the call, not giving her a chance to answer.

Mac was about 10 miles out of Falls Church when the sound of her cell phone startled her. She looked quickly at the number and smiled.

"Hey… you." She spoke before Harm had a chance to greet her.

"Hey. Where are you?"

"I'm just outside Washington."

"Did you wrap everything up down there?"

Mac had been sent to Norfolk at the request of Captain Porter, the CO, of the USS Belknap had requested JAG oversight on an investigation being conducted by NLSO Norfolk

"Yeah, I started my report before I left Norfolk, so I should finish right on time this afternoon. How was Gulfport?"

"Hot and muggy, and the air conditioning went out at the VOQ. It's no fun getting hot and sweaty by myself."

Mac could hear the devilish grin in his voice. He'd had an appointment with Captain Miles this afternoon and thankfully, whatever they talked about didn't seem to have left him in a sour mood.

"So…what's this surprise you have for me?"

"You'll just have to trust me Mackenzie."

"Hmm, I don't know…"

"Don't worry…you're in good hands….I promise."

"Speaking of hands Harm….did you miss me?"

Harm was just pulling in to his parking place at JAG, and he laughed softly, "Oh yeah….you know I did."

"Good." She said smugly and ended the call, grinning mischievously. She was paying him back; she'd been just finishing up a meeting with the CO of the Belknap, this morning, when he'd requested that red dress. She maintained her professional demeanor, but there was no way she could have explained the blush creeping up her neck. She owed him one, she thought… 'Payback, Harmon.'

Harm sat in his Lexus…looking down at his still open, cell phone. No doubt about it, Sarah Mackenzie was an outrageous flirt when she wanted to be….and he was loving every minute of it.

At that same moment……

Captain Oliver Miles was making his way down the hallway to a late lunch. Because Commander Rabb had been out of town, he arranged to see him over his lunch hour so that The Commander could maintain his twice weekly appointment.

The Commander was making progress with his therapy, but there were still things that Captain Miles could see were not on their way to resolution. He read the literature as he was instructed, spoke intelligently of its contents, but still seemed to feel that little of it pertained to him or his mother.

His fathers loss, up until recently had been a strong motivator to succeed in his career, there was no question about that. But the concern Captain Miles had was in the personal part of his life. He hadn't experienced any kind of long term relationship with anyone, with the exception of his friendship with his co worker, who he had just begun seeing. He had left the Navy, the most stabilizing force in his life to rescue her, he had said, from certain death.

It was a matter of record that a very short time prior to his resignation, he had been accused in the murder of a former co worker at JAG and had remained silent about many aspects of the case because he was trying to protect a young man he believed to be his half brother. It seemed the young man had been seeing her, and the Commander couldn't allow anyone to believe his brother had anything to do with it.

Commander Rabb was rescuing everyone….to compensate for the fact that he couldn't rescue his father.

Another issue that concerned the Captain was that Commander Rabb seemed unperturbed by the fact of his brother, that he had been conceived while the Commander believed he was trying to get back to them. While Captain Miles was skeptical that this truly was his brother, he still didn't understand Commander Rabb's unquestioning acceptance of a child his father had with a woman other than his mother.

Captain Miles continued down the hall toward the elevators, passing the office of Commander Vera McCool, another counselor struggling with an accomplished officer who had built a wall around her that, to the Commanders mind, appeared impenetrable.

Commander McCool reviewed the legal pad on her desk; she was going over what she had learned about the Colonel, point by point. The only child of a Staff Sergeant Joseph Mackenzie, deserted by her mother, Deanna at the age of 15, leaving her with a father that she knew was abusive and an alcoholic. Sarah Mackenzie followed him into that alcoholism herself, but to her credit, was maintaining sobriety and had for nearly18 years, with only one relapse during that period of time.

The Colonel was very matter of fact about the details of her childhood. There was no emotion, and no tears, when she repeated the most degrading and hurtful things that her father had said to her as a child and as an adolescent young girl. She spoke of the fact that her mother had left them on her birthday, taking a beloved pet along with her, and as with the other detail of her life, her face was expressionless.

When the subject matter became difficult, Colonel Mackenzie would seem irritated, but she would rein herself in quickly. There was no doubt about it…she didn't want to be in counseling and the resented being made to attend these sessions.

Commander McCool had reviewed her service record, her service in Bosnia had been exemplary, but she had evaded any direct question regarding this time. She also refused to talk about a recent mission. The Colonel would only say that it was classified, and that she hadn't been hurt.

They were nowhere near the heart of Colonel Mackenzie's issues, she demonstrated symptoms of PTSD to be sure, but Commander McCool had begun to believe that her symptoms had begun long ago, possibly before she had even come to JAG.

The only emotion she was unable to hide from her was her feelings when she spoke of someone with whom she had just become involved. Her face would literally light up when she spoke of him. Outside of her career in the Marines, he seems to have been the only constant. She had stated that they'd been friends for a long time and had only recently acknowledged their deeper feelings.

At the end of their last session Commander McCool had suggested a group session with other women who were suffering from PTSD. The Colonel was blunt, and to the point.

"Look, I'm not some soccer mom whose reserve enlistment landed her in Iraq dodging IED's, I'm a professional, I'm a Marine. Yes, I have nightmares, yes I have trouble sleeping sometimes, but if those are the only symptoms you're going on, then I had PTSD when I was 10 years old."

"You seem very angry. Are you angry that you are here?"

"Let's just say I know how to handle what happens in my life, I learned to do it long ago. I don't need counseling to tell me how to cope."

"Are you refusing to return for your next session?"

"No, I'm not, as I said, I'm a Marine, I know how to follow an order. Admiral Chegwidden's order to me was that I would attend these sessions as long as you deemed necessary. "

Commander Mc Cool considered Mac's statement.

"Do you still think they are necessary Commander?" Mac was fighting hard to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

Commander McCool looked at her steadily and answered, "For the time being Colonel, yes, I do."

That conversation ended their session. Commander McCool looked back down at her notes and wondered aloud. "What's it going to take Colonel? What will bring that pain to the surface so that you can be free of it?"

1935(Naples time)

Friday

Paretti Villa

Naples, Italy

Marcella Paretti had just finished speaking with her daughter Francesca, She asked that her mother come to visit and help her with her son, Alberto, beginning this weekend. Francesca lived in Marcella's parent's former home, a beautiful villa just outside Naples that they had occupied when her grandfather was mayor of that city.

Francesca told her mother she wanted to begin some freelance work, nothing that would consume too much of her time. She told her mother that she just needed to begin again; her son would soon be 10 months old. Though the considerable wealth left behind by her mother's parents and her stepfather, made working unnecessary, Francesca still insisted upon a career.

She missed her grandson, she hadn't seen him in over a week and still this was too long. It gave her a secret thrill to know he was the image of AJ, though she was sure, he would never know this child, he was lost to his family here, forever. There were times she allowed herself to hope that he would return to them all someday, but as in the past, time had proved that this was not meant to be.

Her mourning for her Vittorio had been long and deep but with it, came a strong sense of shame that Marcella could reveal to no one. She knew that her husband saw what strong feelings remained between herself and AJ. She and Vittorio had been married for over twenty years, and he knew her too well. They had never discussed it, and because of Luscino Antinori, and his family, they never had the chance… her husband was dead.

2055(Washington time)

Friday

Calisto's

Washington D.C.

Harm sat at the candle lit table in a secluded a corner of the restaurant. Mac had excused herself to 'powder her nose.' Harm smiled at the thought. He'd be willing to bet that Mac had never powdered her nose in her life. She didn't need to; especially tonight, she seemed to be glowing with health and happiness.

Their table had been cleared and as Harm traced the pattern of the creamy white linen tablecloth with the tip of his finger, he thought of how perfect this evening was. Their 'date' had been everything he'd been dreaming of since he first asked Mac to let him take her to Calisto's over a month ago.

He'd picked her up promptly, at 1900. Black tuxedo and a single white rose in his hand. When she'd answered the door, she'd literally taken his breath away. Her dress was rose red and framed her shoulders as though the dress had been custom made, the dress was fitted but was not tight, its full skirt coming to rest in a feminine swirl, just above her knees. What was it about Mac and red? She wore a ruby solitaire on a delicate golden chain around her neck. She had done her hair in such a way that it was fuller and thicker, framing her face, much the way she'd worn it in their first years together. She'd never know how many of his dreams she'd occupied in those days.

Harm looked up to see Mac walking toward him, turning the head of every man in the room, as she passed. Harm stood as Mac approached, his mind still having difficulty grasping that they were finally here, in this place, together.

"Would you like to dance Mac?"

Mac smiled at him, "You did promise me 'dinner, dancing and lights down low' didn't you?"

"Yes, I did."

Harm took her hand and gently guided her out to the dance floor. When he turned back toward her, she gracefully stepped into his loose embrace.

"How am I doing with that promise, Mackenzie?"

Mac leaned in and whispered, "This is wonderful Harm."

He pulled her more closely to him in response and brushed his cheek against her temple.

"It is."

He spoke in a hushed voice, its sound causing a tingle to race down her spine.

2200

Friday

Chegwidden Residence

Maclean Virginia

Admiral Chegwidden was just finishing packing for his trip to Naples, he had finally gotten through to Francesca and she had been delighted that he was coming. He wasn't sure what to expect with regard to this 'someone' she wanted him to meet. He had hoped to have time to spend with her, alone, so that he'd have a chance to really get to know her, and get a handle on her life as it was now.

He'd been surprised that she was staying at her grandparent's villa; The Admiral had fond memories of that particular place and also very painful memories as well. Marcella had fled there when she left him, and it had broken his heart. The conversation that he had when Francesca had been taken was enlightening….but 20 years too late. She said she waited for him to come to her that she didn't understand why he didn't come to bring her back to him. He'd thought she never wanted to see him again.

After Marcella's husband was killed, he couldn't face her, he felt he'd failed her somehow. Francesca had tried to stay in touch, afterward, but they always seemed to miss each other. She had been right, work always pressed in, and it had to be dealt with first. They hadn't established a strong enough bond to stand that kind of separation, maybe that had been his problem all along. He believed that was what happened to his relationship with Marcella. His duty required a certain amount of detachment, he was always able to do it, but the problem was, he couldn't turn that detachment on and off like a switch.

The Admiral closed the suitcase and securing the lock, he spoke his thoughts aloud, "It's too late now."

He carried his luggage to the front door, so that tomorrow morning would be as uncomplicated as possible. Having to arrive 2 hours prior to departure was enough. He'd left Sturgis in place as acting JAG. Something he was sure both Colonel Mackenzie and Commander Rabb would dislike greatly. He wanted his two senior attorneys to concentrate on their duties and completing their course of counseling. There seemed to be a lot less stress apparent in both of them. The Admiral chuckled aloud, thinking that might be due to the fact that they were spending every waking moment together when they weren't at JAG.

He'd taken 10 days leave, he couldn't remember the last time he'd taken that much personal time, but he knew if he didn't respond to Francesca's challenge right away that he might lose her forever.

This was something he had the power to prevent; he would not lose what he had left of his family.

2230

Friday

E street

Washington DC

Harm and Mac walked along the paved path between the Lincoln Memorial and the Washington Monument. It was quiet, the city noise was muted and Harm had laced Mac's fingers into his, catching her eye as she turned toward him.

"So…are you still enjoying our date?"

Mac nodded and smiled shyly, pulling her wrap a bit more tightly around her shoulders, to ward off the cool air in the mid Spring night. "Yes…I am."

He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. His gesture pulled her body close to his side and he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. He looked down at her, the love in his expression warming her to her heart.

They stood in front of the Lincoln Memorial, beautifully lit inside, its stark white marble contrasting with the dark and seemingly starless, sky. The city's lights had made them invisible, unlike the starry sky that they'd looked into in Afghanistan. He reminded her of that night.

She laughed, "Oh yeah…I remember that 'sharing body heat' invitation."

"That's right….why did you make me work so hard to get you to come closer to me?" He had stopped and turned her to face him.

"I thought you'd want your space, you weren't really very easy to read back then Harm."

"Sharing body heat was nice, though….until the bombs started falling."

"Yes…it was."

Harm pulled her into a loose embrace and kissed her lightly. When he broke the kiss and backed away from her, she looked into his eyes knowingly. He wanted more; Mac knew he'd been reining himself in all night.

"Come on and kiss me Sailor, you know you want to."

Mac had barely had a chance to finish her sentence when Harm covered her mouth with his own. His arms tightened around her involuntarily, hell yes, he'd wanted to kiss her. Dancing with her at Calisto's had been a real challenge. It made him wish he'd chosen The Blue Note or The One Step Down, then he'd have been able to hold her the way he wanted to as they danced, and no one would have been scandalized if he kissed her senseless.

Harm's kiss went on and on, he had missed her these last few days, she felt so good in his arms and their kisses had begun to be a language for them. At least he thought so, he loved her, he needed her like the air he breathed, and she had to know that. He'd kiss her deeply, the soft sexy sound she made as he did, nearly buckling his knees. She'd return his ardor with an intensity he'd never experienced. She was his match; there was no doubt about it.

He knew he needed to stop this, at least until he could take her to his apartment or they'd have the Capital Police arresting them for public indecency. He loosened his hold on her and gently but firmly griped her arms, pulling her back from him as he rested his forehead on hers.

"Mmmac." Harm's breath was coming in short gasps.

"We need to..."

She was still catching her breath, so she nodded, the affirmative, "I know…but where are we...

"My place…it's closer." He answered her before she asked the question. He loved how in sync they seemed to be, no need to talk, they both seemed to know what the other was going to say.

"Sounds good to me." They both laughed sheepishly at how quickly things seemed to spiral out of control between them.

"I think its time we finished this date in style." He released her and tucked her hand, once again, into the crook of his arm. They started down the remainder of the steps.

"Will I get a proper good night kiss….and everything?"

Harm would only smile slyly as he guided her back to his vehicle. As he opened her door and she entered the Lexus, he looked into her eyes and asked, "Do you want a proper good night kiss?"

"Mmm Hmm…. and everything."

2310

Friday

Al Italia flight 1217

Somewhere over the Atlantic

Admiral Chegwidden settled back into his seat, it would be a long flight and he didn't want to arrive in Naples exhausted. Since he'd decided to take leave, he'd been champing at the bit to get away. He was so ready for this time with Francesca.

He looked out into the night sky and unbidden, the memory of what Marcella had said to him in their last conversation alone. "Someday I'll tell you about the nights I cried myself to sleep listening for your footsteps."

She had wanted him to come to her and he had no idea…all those years wasted. Early in their separation and eventual divorce, when he allowed himself to think of her, it was always at her parent's villa, standing on their terrace, like a heroine from a Shakespearean play, waiting for him…only him. For years Vittorio Paretti didn't exist, in his dreams. He mentally shook the thoughts away, this trip was about his relationship with Francesca, and this was his last chance to know her, as a father should.

2354

Friday

Harm's Apartment

North of Union Station

Harm lay awake with Mac spooned into his arms. Just as she was starting to drift off to sleep and Harm asked her a question.

"Have any plans for the first weekend in August?" He absent mindedly traced her shoulder blade with his fingers, then leaning back slightly he flattened his hand on her back and stroked her, making her body relax even more.

Mac was only vaguely aware of his question. "Hmmm, no." She drew a deep breath "this feels nice."

"Good" He leaned down and kissed her shoulder. "I'd like you to attend a wedding with me."

Mac's eyes snapped open. "A wedding?" Mac's heart beat sped up immediately. She knew she wanted only him and she never wanted to leave him, but she didn't think she could handle a wedding now…not yet, not until they had Commander McCool and Captain Miles behind them.

"Sergei's…I'm best man."

Mac was quiet for a moment, silently admonishing herself for panicking. Harm would never push her on something like that now. She'd never do that to him. What was she thinking?

"I'd like you to be there, it would mean a lot to me." He almost sounded self conscious, as though he wasn't sure what she'd say.

She turned in his arms and kissed him. "I'd love to; if the Admiral will give both of us leave."

"We'll take a long weekend, Friday and Monday. If we give him plenty of notice, we shouldn't have a problem." He couldn't hide his relief, he wanted her with him. This was too important of an event for Mac to miss.

"Maybe by then, we'll be done with It seemed to hang over her constantly, like a specter.

"Yeah, everything should be back to normal by then."

Mac couldn't help chuckling, "Since when did you or I ever have a normal life?"

Harm pulled her close and laughed with her. "Well, lets just say, everything will be back to normal….for us."

So it began, the summer that would lift the hearts of our friends at JAG into the highest heights but would also bring them down to the depths of their lowest lows.

Their search for the truth and healing always keeping them…just a little lower than the angels.

FIN

Part One

A/N: I have decided not to go further into Season Nine than the first episode; ATW II. The next part of the story will deal with the summer after their arrival home from Paraguay and possibly going through the end of October.

I wont be following season 9 cases or events for most of part Two…for obvious reasons.

Thanks again to everyone who has hung in there with me.

Part Two will follow in approx 3 weeks.


End file.
